


A Lifetime of After

by Casloveshisfreckles



Category: Queer Eye - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Dean/Cas Pinefest 2019, Destiel - Freeform, Game Inventor Castiel, M/M, Mentions of the Winchester Family, Mutual Pining, Pining, Queer Eye crossover, Roommates since college, Teacher Dean Winchester, established best friends, minor character cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 11:51:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17980796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casloveshisfreckles/pseuds/Casloveshisfreckles
Summary: The men of Queer Eye have spent two seasons helping people find their confidence, their best selves, and most importantly, their truths.They’re very good at what they do.Meet the Fab Five’s newest Hero: Castiel Novak, game and toy maker, nominated by Dean Winchester, his best friend and roommate. Dean’s plea is simple, help Castiel prepare for the opportunity of a lifetime, a chance at his dream job.An easy assignment, a cake walk even, until the Fab Five find out things even Dean doesn’t know.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you're on the fence, I promise this story is totally readable without having watched Queer Eye. HOWEVER, I'd be very surprised if, once you finish, you don't immediately click over to Netflix and start binging it. Do yourself a favor because honestly, everyone should watch. That show makes everything better. (And Season 3 is right around the corner!) If you do, please come back and tell me how much you love it! 
> 
> The title of this fic was inspired by [Death of a Bachelor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R03cqGg40GU) by Panic! At the Disco and I say inspired because... I was singing the wrong lyrics the entire time. But I decided I liked the title anyway so I kept it! I can finally relate to people who hear "hold me closer Tony Danza." (...It's actually a lifetime of _laughter_ ) 
> 
> [The playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/justonemiss/playlist/4NPL9UDuiKglNLuSj9lHhd?si=5NgK7QW6Q3i32tJqtevqcg) is short but awesome! Panic! New Jon Bellion, and of course the Queer Eye theme song.
> 
> I'm not exaggerating when I say I wouldn't be posting this without the help and encouragement of [FanforFanatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanforfanatic). She's made of magic and this story is proof. I won't admit to how many times she talked me out of quitting during this one (and the last, and the next, no doubt). She's amazing and I owe her more than I'll be able to ever give back. Darling, thank you. In every verse.
> 
> I had the most awesome opportunity to work with the incredible [Almaasi](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/) who was a total dream from start to finish. Please go check out her tumblr because not only is she an amazing artist, but she writes some of the best Destiel fic our fandom has. Go become a fan if you aren't already!! Thank you for picking my story Elmie and thank you for bringing my story to life with your art! [Art Masterpost is here](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/183187500624/heres-my-art-for-casloveshisfreckles-pinefest) and the art is embedded in the story as well. 
> 
> Thanks as always to the Pinefest admins, y'all are awesome! Congrats on another year of pining!
> 
> Ok, I think I'm done :)) I'm thrilled you've clicked over so please, sit back, relax, and I hope you enjoy the newest, "unofficial" episode of Queer Eye.

It’s a typical day in the Midwest. The forecast calls for thunderstorms but it’s also eighty-eight degrees with ninety percent humidity and absolutely gross outside. This weather is friends with no one, turning perfectly styled hair frizzy and requiring one to dress in layers in the off chance the sky opens to dump buckets of rain on everything.

Traveling west on I-70 affords cattle lined up at fences for miles, tails flicking as the wind whips around them thanks to the stormy, hot day. The rolling hills of Kansas are green and lush and friendly to travelers, billboards bragging about Jayhawks Basketball and promising you’ll feel like you’re not in Kansas anymore when visiting The Wizard of Oz Museum in Wamego. Cheeky, considering.

Glimpses of Middle America flash past the windows of the Denali as the Fab Five travel to their newest destination and their next project.

 

 

“Ok, gentlemen, are we ready to meet our new best friend?” Antoni smiles at the resounding cheers that fill the car. Karamo’s grinning when he glances away from the road and into the rear-view mirror to meet Bobby’s eyes, his smile bright and matching. Jonathan is rubbing his hands together in anticipation, a clever grin on his face and Tan smiles wide back at Antoni, nodding his head and encouraging him to continue.

Everyone is dressed for the rain, Karamo in a black Dodgers hat with white lettering, his black bomber jacket covering an incredible indigo henley that compliments his complexion and makes his highlight pop. Tan is protecting his gorgeous hair with a black leather baseball cap, Bobby mimicking him, his hat navy blue. Jonathan's hair is in a pair of cute French braids Antoni always envies. He turned his hair over to the elements, not bothering to do much after his shower except run his hands through it a few times. Jonathan got a little pomade in there but it doesn’t do much against the humidity.

Antoni pulls the dossier for this week's Hero up on their tablet to show the boys what they’re working with. “Allow me to introduce you to Castiel Novak, thirty-six, a game inventor from Lawrence, Kansas. He’s been nominated by his best friend of fourteen years and roommate, Dean Winchester.”

He presses play.

A man in a tan trench coat sits on a stool against a grey-blue backdrop, his head down as he fusses with the striped blue tie he’s wearing. The tie has somehow flipped and he’s trying to turn it around. A throat clears and he looks up and into the camera.

Every member of the Fab Five gasp, the only exception being Karamo since he can’t take his eyes off the road.

“What?!”

“His eyes,” Tan hisses.

Castiel Novak is a handsome man. Sapphire blue eyes stare imploringly into the camera and Castiel tilts his head, a light flush painting his cheeks as he looks towards the throat clearer. A thick beard covers the bottom half of his face but even with it, his chiseled jaw is easy to see.

“Yes, sorry—hello, my name is Castiel James Novak, I am thirty-six, and am recently unemployed.” Castiel’s stoic as he addresses the camera.

“Dude, this isn’t an application for a dating site,” a voice off camera teases Castiel. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

Karamo huffs out a laugh as he listens in and the rest of them watch as the video goes dark and opens again to another very good looking man, a wide smile revealing perfectly straight teeth and deep dimples. He has laugh lines around kind emerald eyes and none of them can help but be charmed.

Karamo hums his appreciation when he pulls up to a red light. “What the hell is in the water in Lawrence?” he murmurs.

“Hello, I’m Dean, I’m an Aquarius, I like long walks on the beach, pie, and Led Zeppelin. I’m also Cas’ best friend and nominator.” He gives the camera the cheekiest grin, one side of his mouth tipping up.

“Dean, you’ve never been to the beach.” They can hear Castiel offscreen now.

Dean rolls his eyes and the guys chuckle. “Dude, get out of here so I can talk to America about you.” He makes a shooing motion, his head tilting back as he watches Castiel follow his orders. A door closes offscreen and Dean relaxes and turns his grin back to the camera.

“Where was I?” He sits up straighter and shakes out his shoulders, becoming more comfortable in front of the camera. “I tried to tell him not to lead with the unemployed thing but I guess that’s why I called you guys.” He raises his hand to point it at the camera. “We need your help.”

The video cuts to an outdated kitchen with a dining room off to one side, a large table completely covered in cards and plastic molds and dice and boards and just so much stuff, it’s impossible to see the top of it. Cas sits at the only chair, writing on some cards with Dean leaning over him, pointing at something Castiel is writing.

“Yeah, it true Cas is unemployed but his last job sucked. It’s been about six months since he got laid off from Sandover, his blowhard boss saying Cas wasn’t meeting his goals. Buncha crap if you ask me.”

The men listen to Dean’s voiceover as the cameras follow Cas about his day to day, starting with Dean bringing him coffee and toast as he works at the table before showing him running a hand through his thick hair (which makes Jonathan cringe) before he’s at the door, pulling on the same tan trench coat they saw earlier.

“I already want to burn that hideous coat,” Tan comments dryly.  

“That tax accountant gig might have paid the bills, but it made Cas miserable. His real passion is making board games.”

The video cuts to a bar filled with people, all of them playing a tabletop game and having a great time. The guys can see Dean and Cas sitting at one with four others, a game with a giant map, different colored groups facing off and stacks of cards in front of each player.

“Met Cas at the end of our Freshman year and I was days away from dropping out of college.” Dean’s voice over continues as they watch the friends play. “School kinda sucked for me, ironic since I’m a teacher now, and I didn’t think I could cut it. Long story short, Cas convinced me to stay, we became roommates and the rest is history.”

A few pictures of a much younger Dean and Cas start to flick across the screen. The two of them at a basketball game, faces and chests painted blue and yellow and both of them yelling their heads off, arms thrown over each other’s shoulders. Another of them in a dorm room, both sitting on their beds and flipping off whoever is taking the picture.

“Ever since he lost that crappy job, he’s just been down on himself, worst I’ve ever seen. He comes from a real ambitious family, one brother is a doctor and another a congressman. Cas has always been the hardest worker you’ve ever met, whips my ass into shape all the time, so losing his job that way really kicked his ass.”

The video changes again, this time to Dean and Cas sitting together in a large attic room in two old recliners pointed towards a flat screen, a sagging couch pressed against the back wall. A foosball table is at one end of the room and beyond it, a small sunroom full of plants. Dean’s laughing at something on the TV and Cas is smiling wide as he stares at him.

“I’m here asking for y’alls help because Cas—Cas is the best guy I know. And you’re gonna see that. He makes a lot of people happy.”

All the guys coo, Jonathan the loudest, when the video cuts to a black kitten crawling across Castiel’s shoulders, covered by a bright pink polo shirt, ‘Donna’s Pick of the Litter Animal Shelter’ in purple across the back. Castiel is holding a white puff of kitten close to his face, his eyes closed as he talks to the little creature.

“I need your help with getting Cas to see himself like I do.”

The video cuts back to Dean, a look of longing on his face, his eyes pointing back in the direction Castiel went when Dean chased him out of the room. He schools his features when he realizes the camera is back on him. His dazzling smile returns.

“Next week, Cas has an interview with Hasbro. They’re gonna let him pitch his game.” A look of intense pride shines in Dean’s eyes. “It’s his greatest creation, his pride and joy. Been working on it since before we met and it’s finally ready and now he has to be. It’s his dream job and if anyone deserves for their dreams to come true, it’s Cas.”

Antoni can’t help but notice the softness that’s come over Dean’s face as he talks about his best friend.

“Dean?” Castiel is back in the room but still off camera.

Dean’s face changes, becomes protective and gentle at the same time. “Get over here, ask these awesome dudes to come help you.”

Cas enters the frame, a small smile on his face, aimed only at Dean. He’s serious when he looks back at the camera. “I’ve given up arguing. Please help me.” The long-suffering fond look he turns on Dean says enough.

Dean’s still smirking at the camera when the video cuts off.

“Does the profile say how long they’ve been married?” Bobby jokes, making the other guys laugh.

“We were all thinking it,” Tan agrees firmly.

Antoni glances around the car at his best friends, all excited for the upcoming week. “So our mission this week is to get Castiel cleaned up, confident, and ready for his interview!”

 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 

The Denali pulls up to a nondescript building, save for the enormous painted mural depicting the state of Kansas, a big gold star where Lawrence is on the map. Big, green trees line the walkway and shade the elementary school they’ve parked in front of, branches swaying in the wind.

A spitfire of a woman stands in front of the building, formidable in her cowboy boots, jeans, and school t-shirt under a black blazer. She’s wearing a smile as the Fab Five hop out of the car. Her name is Jo Harvelle, and this is her school.

“Welcome to Kennedy Elementary, gentlemen,” she greets them warmly.

She’s engulfed from all sides by five men happy to see her.

“Miss Jo, Principal Harvelle, thank you so much for having us,” Bobby greets her with a small bow once they all untangle from their impromptu group hug. She’s laughing when she waves him off.

“Cas is here and, according to Dean, has no idea you guys are coming to get him today.” She nods at Karamo who holds open the door for them. He loops his arm through Bobby’s as they walk down the hallway of the school, following behind Jo. Their steps and voices echo, all of them dropping lower in the quiet sanctuary. They pass by rows of lockers and various wooden doors, all decorated differently, all welcoming the students back to the new school year.

“He comes in often, more now that he has more free time, and the kids just love him and his games,” her voice is full of pride with a hint of fierceness around the edges. “Cas is family here, just as much as all my teachers.” They reach a wooden classroom door, this one covered in the four colors of the four Hogwarts Houses, a different color for each corner, each House seal in the middle.

The boys jump up and down as silently as they can muster (because who doesn’t love Harry Potter?), not wanting to disrupt the class behind the door and ruin the surprise.

“Dean sorts all the kids, first day of school. They’re a little young but it’s less about their personalities and more about their favorite colors and animals. Gotta keep it simple for first graders,” Jo advises with a quick wink before she raps hard on the door a few times and turns the handle to enter the classroom.

“Sorry for the interruption, class,” Jo says as she pushes the door open. Thirteen pairs of children’s eyes turn towards the door, all curious at the arrival of their principal in the middle of their morning.

Castiel looks up as well. He’s surrounded by students, stacks of cards and a map spread out in the middle of a round table. Big, blue eyes widen in surprise as the Fab Five follow Principal Jo inside. They’re excited, jumping around the classroom, getting the kids excited too, as they realize what's happening.

Dean stands by his desk grinning at the mayhem unfolding in his classroom. A sorting hat sits on a pedestal behind him. He’s wearing a pink Mystery Spot t-shirt under a black blazer with worn jeans and black boots. His sandy blonde hair is tousled and his eyes sparkle and he’s the very definition of Van Halen’s “Hot For Teacher”.

The kids are getting louder and so are the men ambushing them.

“Oh my goodness, look at all you little beautiful babies,” Jonathan exclaims, patting the top of a few kids heads as he walks around.

“Are you guys here to dress up Mr. Cas?” one adorable little curly-haired girl asks with a toothy grin.

Tan drops to her eye level. “We are indeed,” he smiles at her. “Would you be so kind to introduce us?” Tan melts when she slips her hand in his and pulls him over to the table Cas is occupying, Antoni and Bobby in tow.

Dean sticks his hand out in greeting as Karamo and Jonathan approach. “Welcome, fellas! Glad you found us okay,” he says before he’s quickly pulled into a strong hug by Karamo. He huffs a laugh and slaps his back.

“We’re huggers, we’re huggers,” Karamo reassures him with a laugh as Jonathan hugs Dean hard, rocking them back and forth with a giant smile.

“And we do love a big strong man to hug; did you feel these gorgeous muscles, Karamo?” Jonathan asks as he squeezes Dean’s upper arms.

“You know I did, honey,” he replies with a wink. “We love your school Dean, and your Harry Potter classroom! Want to tell us what you guys are up to?”

Dean grins, pride in his profession clear on his face. “Well, y’all came on the perfect day,” he says with a wink before his attention shifts over to the students and the layout of tables they share, three in a triangle shape, five to a table. “Every Monday morning, we play games. Cas’ games, to be exact.” The source of Dean’s pride shifts too. “He’s made about ten different table top games for my classroom over the years, tweaking them as he goes. Today it’s _Pandamonium_ , a kind of matching game, all exotic animals.” Dean raises his eyebrows in amusement.

Jonathan bursts out laughing. “ _Panda... monium!_ ” He squeals as Karamo throws his head back in laughter, his wrists crossing over his chest.  

“Cas loves puns,” Dean muses, his eyes softening. It turns Karamo and Jonathan’s heads enough to follow his line of sight straight to where Castiel sits, blushing at Antoni’s attention and all the kids giggling and pulling at him.

They exchange a quick glance, eyebrows cocked.

Dean clears his throat.

“Now that Cas isn’t working, he’s here for a few hours every Monday to hang out, watch the kids play the games.”

“Free beta testing!” Jonathan jokes.

A deep laugh rumbles in Dean’s chest as he nods in agreement. “Pretty much. The kids love them all, and if they don’t, Cas tweaks it until they do.”

They’re interrupted by a chorus of cheers from the other guys and a burst of tiny giggles that follow. They approach the groups at play, Karamo and Jonathan both looking to get in on the fun being had.

Antoni reaches for his friends as they approach. “Castiel was just about to explain his game, now that the kids have finished their last round, come see.”

Castiel greets the approaching men with a shy smile, his eyes darting past them to connect with Dean for just a moment before he’s looking back down at the game. He clears his throat. “Yes, see, the players match the animals and progress around the board, however, different matches, uh, mean different—” He’s gesturing at the board as he talks and one nervous flinch of his hand has a stack of cards tumbling over, causing the kids to giggle and little hands to shoot out to fix it for him.

“Here, Mr. Cas, let me explain,” a young boy to Castiel’s left puts a small hand on Castiel’s, stilling him. He smiles gently at the jumpy guy and it softens all their hearts.

“Yes, thank you Ben,” Castiel replies, his shoulders relaxing.

“A demonstration is always the quickest way to understand a game, just like you taught us,” Ben says as he expertly stacks the cards, nodding at Castiel whose cheeks are turning pink. It’s clear to everyone watching that Jo was right when she said the kids really do adore Castiel.

The kids take a few turns, the game easy to understand to the adults. This results in them creating five teams for the five person game, the kids having fun shouting out their matches and each one of the Fab Five trying to lead their little charges to victory. Castiel stalks around the groups, giving tips as he goes. Dean does the same, drifting around the tables and smiling at Castiel every time they cross paths.

The way they move around each other doesn’t go unnoticed.

The game is turning into nothing but fun chaos and it’s clear they won’t be finishing anytime soon, so it’s time to call it. The Fab Five have work to do.

Tan is the first to stand and get the attention of the loud classroom, and not just because his team is in last place, nope, not at all. “Okay boys and girls, boys and girls!” A few claps of his hands and a quick, sharp wolf whistle from Dean does the trick, all the kids settling down once they hear it.

“We want to thank you for having us today, but you know why we’re all here and what that means, right?”

The kids all chatter excitedly and move around to push Castiel up and out of his seat. He’s tripping over them a bit as they guide him towards the group of men there to steal him away. Dean holds his trench coat out to him as he approaches and Cas shrugs it on.

Tan laughs and nods his head at the kids enthusiasm. “Next time you see Mr. Cas, he’ll be an all new man,” he promises with a sweet smile.

Some smiles on the kids faces falter.

“But we like Mr. Cas…”

“He’s great just the way he is,” one blonde haired, blue-eyed girl tells them with a small but mighty glare in their direction. “Mr. Winchester thinks so too!”

“Claire,” Dean says, his tone leaving no room for her to retort and clear that this is something they’ve been over.

“Yes, what Mr. Tan meant is, we’re gonna shine him up and help him be his best so he can make even more awesome games for you, and other kids like you,” Bobby explains, his arm going over Tan’s shoulders.

That seems to satisfy the suspicious, all of them smiling by the time Bobby’s done talking.

The kids have formed a line to high five them all as they leave the classroom, each of the men taking a few seconds with each kid to give out hugs or have little chats. They’re almost all too busy to notice Dean and Castiel hanging back by Dean’s desk.

Castiel’s eyes are pointing down as Dean talks until Dean leans down, intent to catch Castiel’s eyes. They lift up to listen as Dean continues to talk, his hands raising up to straighten Castiel’s tie and lapels.

The two of them catch Jonathan’s eye as he fluffs one giggling girl’s hair. He nudges Karamo, whose gaze follows his before looking back at Jonathan with a knowing glint in his eye.

They both look back in time to catch Castiel blushing when Dean scuffs his beard covered jaw. Castiel rubs at the place Dean touched and has no trouble at all holding his stare. Only the shouts of a student breaks the look they’re sharing before Castiel is dodging kids to get to the door of the classroom.

The other men are all at the end of the hall already when Jonathan and Karamo get Castiel into their clutches, the door to Dean’s room closed behind him, the sounds of the excited kids fading after another sharp whistle from inside.

“We’re riding with you,” Jonathan announces. “We’ve got lots to talk about.”

 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 

All the guys whistle and tease Castiel about his car, a 1978 Lincoln Continental, painted gold of all things.

Karamo leans back and gives the car an appreciative once over. “Yes, Castiel, this baby is made for a powerful man,” he exclaims with a silly grin and a clap of his hands.

Bobby rolls his eyes fondly. “He’s calling you a pimp.”

Castiel is three shades of red when he unlocks the car in a hurry, sliding into the front seat, mumbling under his breath about someone named Sam. Karamo swears he hears the word _crappy_ muttered under Castiel’s breath when he climbs in next to him.

“I really do like your car, Castiel,” Karamo tells him, throwing a smile to the backseat where Jonathan is jumping in after Bobby.

“Me too henny, it’s so sexy with all the gold and the leather,” Jonathan tells him, his hands sliding over the supple, off white leather seat.

Castiel’s blush fades as he exits the school parking lot behind the Denali, turning left into the neighborhood.

“So, Castiel, you sweet, beautiful little game maker you, why didn’t you tell us you and Dean were a couple?” Out of all the guys, Jonathan can always be counted on to get right to the point.

For what it’s worth, Castiel only jerks the wheel slightly at the question before he clears his throat nervously. “Dean and I are—we don’t—we’re not together.” He tries to put a finality behind his words but it’s weak at best.

Three pairs of disbelieving eyes turn on him.

“Yeah, right,” Bobby answers, incredulous.

Karamo angles his body towards Castiel, noting his increasing discomfort. “Wait, are you kidding right now?”

Castiel shakes his head, his eyes firmly glued to the road in front of him.

“Were you, ever?” he asks. “Wait—do you _want_ to be?” Karamo corrects himself, a mischievous tilt to his eyebrow. “Should I be asking how long you’ve been in love with him instead?”

Castiel won't look at any of them.

Jonathan claps his hands together. “I smell a possible unrequited love trope brewing; my favorite!”

“More like mutual pining,” Bobby jokes.

Karamo nudges Cas, coaxing a small smile from him. “And they were roommates!”

A collective mocking gasp fills the car. “They were roommates!” the rest of them parrot back, all of them sharing a laugh and lifting the bit of tension coming off Castiel.

The blush is creeping back into his cheeks but at least he’s smiling when they quiet down. Castiel’s hands still tighten on the wheel before he speaks. “Dean has been my best friend since we were twenty-two. He’s—we’re each other’s family.”

The way he says it silences the car for the remainder of the trip.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The drive to the home Castiel and Dean share is a short one. The cars arrive at a small, two-story clapboard home with a wooden porch swing on one side and small planters filled with bright pink and yellow flowers across the front. It’s pleasant, inviting, and Bobby is the only one frowning when they all pile out of the two cars. 

“Um, your house is adorable and perfect. What am I doing here?” he asks Castiel jokingly. 

Castiel looks up at the house, squinting as if he’s really seeing it for the first time. “Yes, well, the outside is the only thing we’ve—Dean’s fixed up over the years. When I inherited it from my uncle, it was very run down.” He clears his throat. “We painted and bought new appliances when we moved in, but that was over ten years ago.” 

Tan and Antoni are already rocking back and forth on the porch swing, Antoni’s head on Tan’s shoulder while they enjoy the cool breeze finally being afforded, a much needed relief from the humidity. 

“Castiel, this swing is so adorable, we’re just going to stay right here, that’s alright with you guys,” Tan kids, Antoni nodding happily along. 

“Nope, nope, come on you slackers,” Karamo chides them with a grin. “Castiel is gonna show us the house.” 

They’re up in an instant, the swing swaying from their abrupt departure. All six men crowd into the small entryway, Castiel shrugging out of his coat and hanging it in the small closet next to the door. He’s helpless to do anything as the men all go in different directions, the entryway leading to the various parts of the house. 

Tan and Jonathan disappear into the hallway leading to the bedrooms that veers off to the right.

The living room is in front of them and through it, the dining area with a large table covered completely in papers and plastic bits and cards and tokens and so much junk, Bobby starts to fidget just looking at it. Past it is the kitchen where Antoni is already poking around in the refrigerator. 

“Castiel, what in the heck am I looking at,” Bobby exclaims, drawing attention to the dining table in disarray in front of him. 

Castiel pulls at the collar of his button down. “This is my uh—my work area. I used to work only in my room but Dean insisted I take the table for my projects.” 

“And how do you even keep track of what you’re working on, this is crazy!” 

“It would seem hectic to the casual observer, I suppose,” Castiel muses. “But I have a system.”

Bobby eyes him suspiciously, knowing from experience most people’s “systems” are usually nightmares. “Yes, well, this is just too much.” He makes a motion like he’s trying to push the mess into another dimension. He’s already moved away from the table, like looking at it another second was just too offending and finds the staircase in the middle of the bottom floor. 

“What’s upstairs?” he asks, curious. 

“That’s the man cave slash greenhouse,” he answers, not at all surprised when Bobby immediately turns and goes up the stairs. 

“Castiel,” Karamo calls him from the other room. “Can I borrow you for a sec?” 

Karamo is standing in front of their massive bookcase that takes up one whole side of the room. Amongst the shelves filled with books are framed photographs and it’s these Karamo is observing, an amused look on his face. He points at one in a black frame, sitting on the top shelf. It’s a photo of Castiel, trapped under Dean’s arm but looking happy to be there, matching smiles on their faces. They’re on some kind of dock, a blue-green lake shimmering behind them, both of them dripping wet as if they’d just climbed from the water on whatever hot summer day this was. 

“Tell me about this memory.” 

Castiel considers it for a moment before a shy smile graces his features. “That was the summer after we became roommates at KU. Dean’s Uncle Bobby owns a cabin in South Dakota and we drove up to stay in it for a week. It was—abysmal. No power to the cabin, no water.” Castiel shakes his head. “Bobby thought it was hilarious. We barely made it three days before we were at the local motel and crossing our fingers we wouldn’t bring bed bugs back to our dorm.” He’s still staring at the two young men in the photo, their future ahead of them. “We went back every summer after that, until we graduated. Dean packed a generator.”

Karamo grins. He points at another set of photos on a lower shelf. “What about those?” 

It’s a set of pictures from a photo booth, Castiel and Dean in four photos, each one funnier than the next. 

Castiel pulls the strip of photos from the corner of the frame they’ve been wedged in, a quick look of longing crossing his features before he schools his face and presents the photos so Karamo can take a closer look. 

“Dean’s brother Sam got married this past summer and his wife Eileen wanted a photo booth. Dean insisted we participate.” The first photo is of the two of them, both in tuxedos; Dean grinning like a fool and Castiel attempting to look exasperated but his face just looks fond. “He said it’d be months until we saw formal photos and we needed something to remember the night right then.” The second picture is Dean putting a cowboy hat on Castiel’s head with a bursting grin. “Dean insisted on the props.” The third photo is Dean posing, his lips pursed in a silly attempt at being menacing. Castiel is side eyeing his photo booth partner. “This was the only salvageable set. They devolved from here,” he comments lightly. The last picture is both men slumped together, both their heads thrown back in laughter at the lightness of the moment. 

Castiel tucks the photos back into the space they were occupying. They’re in good company, photo after photo of the two men with various other people but always, in every single frame, Castiel and Dean. 

Their conversation is interrupted by a frightened wail from the direction of the bedrooms. 

“What's in your closet that is terrifying Tan?” Karamo raises an eyebrow at Castiel. Castiel’s eyes grow wide and both men rush towards the sound, Karamo following behind Castiel, his hands on his shoulders as he laughs. 

They reach Castiel’s open bedroom to a mess. An incredible one, given the time they've been inside. Castiel considers himself a neat man—regardless what the dining room table might imply—and the sight of his closet contents on the floor of his bedroom make his eye twitch. 

Tan, however, looks adorable standing in the middle of it, wearing—of all things—a trench coat, much like the one Castiel was just wearing. And he's holding another one in his hands. 

“Castiel, how many of these hideous coats do you own? My God, I've never seen such a thing.” Tan’s voice is raising. 

Castiel crosses his arms over his chest, his lips pursed shut. 

“This makes three? Are you hiding more?” Tan presses a hand to his chest. “I'm feeling so attacked right now.”

Karamo and Jonathan, who's been watching from the bathroom, go to him, cooing and giggling in an attempt to soothe their frazzled friend. 

Maybe it's Jonathan fanning Tan with a small pink handkerchief or maybe it's when Karamo pulls out a travel size can of Evian Facial Spray that does it but Castiel breaks, his stoic exterior dissolving into one of amusement. 

He covers his mouth to huff out a laugh behind his hand. “You'll be relieved to hear you've found them all.”

“Are they sentimental? Please, something has to explain them!” Tan’s voice has taken on a hint of desperation. 

“I purchased one and the fit was functional—” 

No one misses when Tan flinches.

“So I did what any sensible adult would do and I purchased two more for future use.” Even as he explains, he crosses the room, a smile that barely gives anything away on his face, intent to join the healing due to the pain he caused. “Dean warned me you'd hate my coats,” he confesses. 

“I'm liking Dean more and more,” Tan sniffs as they all untangle. He's thrown the offending trenches into the pile on the bed, pulling off the one he’s wearing in a dramatic fashion before whipping it into the pile. “Don’t think I’ll be forgetting the one in the coat closet.” 

Castiel huffs and shakes his head in response. He joins Tan in front of what’s left of his closet since most of his wardrobe is no longer inside. “You hate it all,” he states, almost sounding not surprised. 

“Why is everything a size too big? And why are there so many stuffy suits?” Tan gestures back to his pile. 

Castiel only shrugs. “I worked in a very formal office; my company required a tie and jacket daily. The clothes weren’t important, really.” 

“You know who you’re speaking to, yes?” Tan asks with a flat look. “Castiel, look at you. You’re handsome, you’re strong, and you’re wearing a shirt that you’re drowning in! Do you have anything you wear that  _ does _ make you feel good?” 

Castiel’s eyes flick to the clothes still in the closet. Tan pulls a few of the shirts out; soft, well worn and cared for shirts with old rock band logos silkscreened to the front. “What’s different about these? Because these say relaxed, these say fun and I bet they look great on you, yes? You feel comfortable in these.”

“I do, they are clothes for relaxing around the house. I’ve had most of them since college,” he idly tugs on the hem of a grey AC/DC shirt. “Some of these are Dean’s.” 

Tan raises an eyebrow but stays silent. 

“As for those patterned shirts you saved, more additions from Dean.” Castiel rolls his eyes with a smile. “He admires your style and has made—attempts,” he gestures at the short sleeved button downs. “They are nice,” he admits. “I just don’t know…” 

“You’re used to going out in those clothes in the burn pile,” Tan confirms with a teasing grin. Castiel’s cheeks pink. “Don’t worry Castiel, I already have some ideas to elevate your style and embrace your comfort level so we can get you out in the world looking and feeling good in clothes that fit, yes?” 

Castiel can’t help but relax and answer with a small smile under the gaze of Tan’s warm eyes. 

“We can’t let Antoni see these band shirts, he’ll take them home as a souvenir and I have plans for them,” Tan says as he gathers all the hanging shirts in the crook of his arm. “Now go on, I believe Jonathan needs you.” 

He’s quick to grab Castiel by the hip and swing him around, giving him a quick swat to his ass to push him towards the bathroom. Castiel barks out a sharp laugh and stumbles right into Jonathan’s personal space. 

“Well, hello there handsome!” Jonathan greets him, not seeming to care about their proximity, even welcoming it. Karamo is checking his reflection in the mirror, rubbing the stubble on his chin and grinning at Cas when their eyes meet in the mirror. 

The bathroom is big, split between Castiel and Dean’s rooms. A wide counter stretches along one side, double sinks and plenty of space for the two men to share. A large mirror stretches above the vanity, reflecting the rest of the bathroom; a large tub and shower combo with a rubber duckie covered shower curtain being the only real decoration, although Bobby might disagree about it qualifying. There’s a small water closet to the right. 

It’s big enough to fit the three men comfortably but any more bodies and that would quickly end. 

Castiel finally notices that the under the sink contents have now migrated to the countertops, one side covered sparingly compared to the other. Jonathan’s staring at him, his head tilted towards the products. He’s wearing one of Castiel’s discarded trench coats but he’s somehow made it look decent by rolling up the sleeves, one of Castiel’s blue ties tied around the waist, cinching the coat shut. 

“Don’t tell Tanny but I kinda like this.” Jonathan runs his hands down the front, smoothing it. He winks at his reflection in the mirror before gesturing down at all the laid out grooming products. “Some of these things are not like the others, Castiel. I take it you don’t use a lot of product.” 

The sink closest to Castiel’s room has a few wayward bottles and a boar’s bristle hairbrush next to a leather shaving kit. It’s nothing more than a bottle of dusty aftershave, some deodorant and a bottle of body lotion. Dean’s side is much more crowded with different colored containers and boxes. Karamo is going through them one by one and nodding in appreciation. 

Castiel clears his throat and picks up his hairbrush, turning it in his hands. “I’ve never been one for that sort of thing,” he admits. “It’s all a bit intimidating,” he gestures towards Dean’s collection. 

“Okay, I totally get that,” Jonathan agrees. He maneuvers himself behind Castiel, pushing him to the forefront of the mirror while his kneads at his shoulders. “Let’s talk about what you do now.” 

Castiel nods and relaxes under Jonathan’s ministrations. “After a shower, I brush my hair out,” he eyes his locks in the mirror and tugs at an errant curl. “I suppose I’ve let my appearance slip,” he observes with a frown, distracted from his task. Wide blue eyes look back at Jonathan, hesitant. 

Jonathan’s eyes soften. “That’s why we’re here, henny, let your girl worry about that, okay?” He nods his assurance to back his words. “That’s actually a great brush you already have there.” 

Castiel’s cheeks take on a twinge of pinkish color. “Stocking stuffer, from Dean. It was upsetting to him that I didn’t have one before.” 

Jonathan tips his chin down to glare at Castiel while Karamo laughs. “It’s upsetting me  _ now. _ ” 

Castiel bites his lip. “Yes, my apologies. I’ve been brushing regularly for nine months, if that helps.” 

Karamo’s smile is so wide, he’s still laughing. “Castiel, was that a… joke? Johnny, do you hear our boy?” 

“Mmm hmm, we’re still gonna have a loooong talk about that tomorrow, mister.” Jonathan purses his lips with a pout. “So you’re not moisturizing, you’re not shaving, do we just brush our teeth and go on our way?” 

Castiel full on flushes and eyebrows raise around him. “Not exactly,” he mumbles as his eyes flick to a Google home speaker tucked in the corner. 

“Castiel,” Karamo draws out. “Another part of your routine you’d like to share with us?” His chocolate eyes dance, anticipating whatever’s making Castiel turn such a lovely shade of red. 

“Come on, can’t hide from us sir,” Jonathan teases with a grin that seems to do the trick, Castiel shrugging his shoulders like he’s decided the fight isn’t worth it. He clears his throat.

“Hey Google,” he growls out, making Jonathan clap in delight. “Start my morning playlist,” he instructs like he does every morning. Soft piano chords play over the small speaker, a distinct melody following that draws a big reaction from the men sharing the bathroom with Castiel. 

“Keala Settle,  _ yasss Queen!” _ Jonathan squeals, not even hesitating to contain his joy. “I love this song!”

The summer anthem “[This is Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_n8d_Vi8nSE)” from _ The Greatest Showman _ fills the little bathroom. 

“A few months ago, Dean read an article about—”  Castiel pauses and emits a long-suffering sigh. “—Power Posing.” That said, he plants both hands on his hips, his legs spread wide. It’s with an almost grimace he squares his shoulders and lifts his chest. “I always feel ridiculous but he insists that we do this every morning.” He drops the pose. “And he sings.” 

Karamo throws his head back in laughter. “Dean’s not crazy, there’s science behind the Power Pose.” 

This piques Castiel’s interest. “Really?”

“I’ll give you some book recommendations,” he replies with a wink. “Okay then, you heard Johnny, give us the routine.” 

Castiel’s eyes widen again and he looks between the two expectant men. Something changes in his expression, minor but there nonetheless. The glint in his eye doesn’t give much away until he’s grasping his hairbrush in his fist and taking a few from Dean’s pile to pass out. 

They’ve reached the chorus, the good one that’s been building and Karamo and Jonathan don’t hesitate to step into the Power Pose Castiel was just holding. Jonathan bobs his head to the beat and Karamo raises an eyebrow at Castiel in the mirror. 

His grin is wide, the widest of the entire day as he joins them. The three of them only get to hold the pose for a few beats before Tan is taking up the entire doorway, arms flung wide to join the already singing chorus. 

The rest of them dissolve into happy chaos, hair brushes passed around and then all four of them are squeezing into the bathroom, happy about it, singing and lip synching to the song. It keeps building and so does their performance, Castiel bent over laughing at the other three falling into an easy choreography, as much as the space affords. 

It’s high fives on their performance all around before Jonathan pushes them out of the bathroom, Castiel trailing Karamo back towards the kitchen. 

“You guys do that every day?” he asks Castiel over his shoulder, a wide grin still splitting his face, a bounce in his step. 

Castiel mirrors him and nods in reply, long curls flopping over his forehead. He jerks his head to flick them off his face. “We may have to incorporate some dancing. Dean will be thrilled,” he states dryly, trying but failing to keep the smirk off his face. 

Karamo’s deep booming laughter bounces off the low ceiling. “Feels good to have a little fun, right?” He beams over his shoulder before almost running right into Antoni, coming from the kitchen to follow the commotion in the bedrooms. 

“I was just coming to get you,” Antoni exclaims, a smile lighting up his face. “I was getting lonely but your kitchen is so amazing, I was easily distracted.” He grabs Castiel by the hand as Karamo breezes past them to enter the kitchen first. 

It’s the biggest room in the house, clearly. A large island dominates the middle of the room, half of it a chopping block and a large sink, the other half countertop with four bar stools lined underneath. Karamo settles on one as Antoni makes his way around to the other side.  He’s quick to open the fridge. 

“You know, I see inside a lot of refrigerators and I must say, yours is one of the best,” Antoni says from inside the fridge where he’s loading his arms with food. “Fully stocked, I love that,” he says over his shoulder, “but what’s with the Chinese food?” 

Antoni stands straight, four paper cartons in his hands. He turns to the stove, a large skillet already heating for him to empty the contents of the boxes. The food hits the hot pan with a sizzle and the smell of teriyaki and ginger fills the room. 

“It was my turn to cook last night,” Castiel says, somehow with a straight face. 

“So my next question was about your cooking style but I guess you just answered that.” Antoni's grin is playful. “ _ Is there _ anything you cook well?” 

Maybe it's because his question comes off genuine and not teasing that has Castiel at ease. “I'm well versed in the functionality of every button on the microwave however, my skills don't reach beyond that, I'm afraid. I can pour a mean bowl of cereal but otherwise,” he waves vaguely at the room, “this is Dean's kitchen. I'm lucky when he lets me chop.”

“If you can handle a knife, you can't be that bad,” Antoni tells him with a laugh. “But I get that, I'm the same way in my kitchen. I take over  _ completely _ .”

“He only allows us to be his taste testers,” Karamo confirms. “I think Tanny is the only one you've ever let cook with you.”  

“That was baking and that's different,” Antoni defends himself, pointing a finger at Karamo. “Don't tell him but he's better at it than me.”

“I heard that and I already knew it.” Tan’s standing in the doorway, a wide grin on his face. “I just pretend I don't always overhear you,” he teases Antoni, bumping their hips together when he joins them in the kitchen. 

Antoni shakes his head as he dishes out a few plates of Chinese Leftover Surprise. Tan pokes at it, commenting on its surprising lack of cheese but still refusing to eat it. 

Karamo isn't afraid to dig in and even Castiel appreciates a few bites before putting his fork down.

“So really, what's the problem? Do you want to do more than just chop stuff? Because I'd love to teach you some basics, if you're into that.” Antoni's warm, chocolate eyes are disarming and Castiel finds himself nodding slowly. 

“I’d like that,” Castiel says. “I was hesitant to ask, but I’d really like to learn how to bake a pie.” He looks between Antoni and Tan before dropping his gaze to the countertop. He scratches at something only he can see while he talks, a blush rising on his cheeks. “It’s Dean’s favorite.” 

The three other men exchange a look over his head. They’ve each had similar moments throughout the morning and they’re all seeing the same thing. 

“I think we can handle that.” Antoni’s voice is gentle and Castiel lifts his eyes again, the relief of not having to explain himself palpable. “I’ve got a few other easy recipes I can show you as well, throw together a nice dinner. Sound like a plan?” 

The shine in Antoni’s eyes is contagious and Castiel breaks into a sparkling grin. “Do you have one for hamburgers?” 

“Someone makin’ hamburgers?” Dean’s boisterous voice joins them, the man himself stepping in, his sandy hair windblown and a hopeful look on his face. He slips his backpack off his shoulder and steps into the kitchen to a chorus of greetings.

“Dean!”

“Welcome home!”

“Chinese food instead?” Antoni’s already dishing him a plate of food which Dean accepts with a grin. 

“Cas cooked up a feast last night,” Dean jokes, sliding in next to his best friend and knocking their shoulders together.

“Dean.” 

Dean examines the bowl. “You gotta admit Cas, you call in a hell of an order.” He looks at Antoni with a cheeky smile. “Did you just combine everything and heat it up? That’s awesome.” He doesn’t hesitate to take a bite. Tan makes a face. “Not bad. It’d probably be great cold.” 

“Cold Chinese food, I don’t think I’ve had that since my bachelor days,” Karamo says, his face carefully constructed to hide the calculating intent behind his comment. 

“Well that’s why Cas has me,” Dean states, still smiling but now it’s directed at Cas, whose eyes lift, wide eyed and aimed on Dean. “But even boring old guys like us eat takeout every once in a while, right?” 

Castiel’s eyes brighten. “Antoni’s going to show me the ropes,” he says, proud and excited to share the very thing Dean invited them here for. “Maybe I’ll let  _ you  _ chop.” 

Tan and Antoni exchange an amused glance at the obvious flirtation Castiel just threw out and Karamo cracks up. 

Dean’s eyes are dancing in amusement and he’s nodding. “Sounds awesome.” 

“So Castiel tells us this is kind of your domain,” Antoni says, interrupting the staring contest Dean and Castiel are having. 

It snaps Dean back to reality and he schools his face, giving Antoni a proud smile. “You could say that. Pretty comfortable in here, that’s for sure.” He ducks his head. “My mom owned a bakery in town, growing up. Ran it with her Aunt Mildred.” 

No one misses that his sentence is in past tense and the way Castiel’s face softens when Dean mentions his mother. 

Dean continues. “So the kitchen is…”

“Like home.” Antoni is quick to finish Dean’s sentence, familiar with the way a kitchen can be the heart of a home. 

“Like home.” Dean and Castiel’s eyes meet again and their gazes hold. 

The two of them continue to stare and it’s bordering on slightly awkward for everyone else when thankfully, Bobby interrupts all of it by calling out from upstairs.

“Is that Dean I hear down there?” 

Four heads turn up towards the stairwell leading to the second floor. 

“It is!” Dean calls back, his face turning hesitant as he waits for Bobby to go on. They can all hear him clatter down the stairs, stopping before poking his head out of the doorway. 

“Can I steal you for a second?” His smile is so dazzling, no one could say no. 

“We’re right behind you,” Tan calls to Dean’s retreating form, following Bobby back upstairs to his man cave. Once his foot falls have faded, they all round on Castiel, hands pressed to the countertop. 

“Oh do we have work to do,” Karamo exclaims. He turns to Antoni. “We need to talk about a menu.” Karamo gets no objections from Antoni on that. He takes Castiel by the shoulders and leads him towards the stairs. “I hope you’re ready to trust us Castiel, because we are here to shake things up my friend, and I for one am so excited.” He squeezes Castiel’s shoulders. “Are you excited? Do you feel it?” 

Karamo can’t see his face, but Castiel’s eyes are shining and he nods, rolling his shoulders under Karamo’s grip. His nerves are a mess, however he can’t help but absorb the enthusiasm and positivity that’s surrounded him since the Fab Five’s arrival.

 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 

Dean’s happy to follow Bobby upstairs, the tension in the kitchen a little too thick for his liking. He kicks himself for letting himself get all wrapped up in Cas, something he swore he wasn’t gonna do while the guys were here. 

The second floor is the same from the video; an open room taking up most of the length of the house but narrower. The ceilings are high and pointed, in line with the slope of the roof. Thankfully, they’re high enough for men as tall as Dean and Bobby to stand without hitting their heads. They’re standing next to the battered foosball table and a few just as ragged looking lazy boy recliners. 

Bobby isn’t shy about his disdain. “You know this space… needs some work.” He makes a show of sidestepping the chairs. “Say goodbye to these, I hope you weren’t attached.” 

Dean laughs and leans over the back of one, settling his weight so the chair doesn’t rock. “We bought these after we cleared all the old crap from the attic, turned it into our hang out space. It’s where we relax.” 

“Look, I can totally work with that but I had a thought when I was downstairs and standing next to that horrible table,” Bobby cants his eyes down to Dean’s. “How would you feel about turning half this space into a workshop for Castiel?”

Dean straightens, his interests very piqued. 

“I’m thinking a workbench with lots of shelves and drawers for all his little game pieces and stuff.” Bobby sweeps one arm towards the back end of the room, close to Castiel’s sun room. “On this side, more storage that’s functional, maybe some tables for game play. I don’t know  _ quite _ yet but I  _ do _ know that I can make the two functions work together, if you don’t mind sharing the room?” He twists his body and tilts his head, his face hopeful. 

Dean’s been nodding as Bobby’s been describing his ideas, his smile growing. “Hey, if you told me you wanted to give him the whole space, I’d be into it! Anything to help Cas succeed.” He waves his hand at the foosball table and the flatscreen. “It’d be awesome to work up here together, though.” Dean’s got a faraway look in his eye. “I like lesson planning on the couch.”

“So you’d be interested in joining me and Cas at The Container Store? Get that guy organized?” 

Dean’s attention snaps back to Bobby at his mention of The Container Store. 

“Hell yeah, I love that place.” 

“I knew I liked you, Dean!” 

A stampede of pounding feet are coming up the stairs, the rest of the Fab Five and their charge joining Dean and Bobby in the attic. 

Dean is all smiles when Castiel joins his side but that quickly fades after a glance at his watch. “Sorry fellas, but it's time for me to get out of your hair.” One of the stipulations of inviting the guys into their home is that Castiel and Dean can’t stay there while Bobby works on the house. 

He receives a chorus of disappointed groans from the men around him. Dean plays them all off with a smile as he backs out of the room, promising he’ll see them soon and throwing a small wink and a finger gun in Castiel’s direction before he’s out the door and down the stairs. 

Once he’s gone, all the attention turns back to Castiel, now the center of all five men’s attention, something that’s yet to happen so it's no wonder he looks a bit shell shocked at this point in the day. 

“Okay, Castiel,” Karamo claps his hands together. “We’ve all spent some time with you and in your house and I know that I’m already coming up with a plan for what  _ I _ want to accomplish with you and if I know my boys, they’re doing the same so tell me, are you ready to get started?” 

“I think I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be,” he says, quite honestly. “Plus, my beard is starting to get very itchy.” 

Jonathan claps his hands and jumps over to Castiel. “Don’t you worry honey, that thing is gonna be the first to go, get that sexy, sharp jawline covered in some sexy stubble—ooh, I can’t wait!” 

All their faces are open and enthusiastic, Jonathan dancing a little in anticipation, Antoni and Tan with their arms slung over each other’s shoulders. Castiel can’t help but be at ease after their morning spent together, with each man examining the different parts of Castiel’s life in a way that never once felt intrusive. 

He smiles wide at them, open and honest. “Let’s get started.”

 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 

Back in the comfort of their loft, each of the Fab Five get to work on their plan to help Castiel. 

“Cas and Dean's house has great bones, it's just in desperate need of an update. I want to help their space evolve past the bachelor pad they set up after college and into a functioning home for these two amazing men.” 

Bobby's mind is already whirring with color schemes and space saving tricks, his vision for Castiel’s new workshop starting to come to life. 

“Castiel is a brilliant inventor and he needs somewhere he can nurture that side of his brain. I want to give him the ease of a functioning space where there's a place for all of his supplies within reach. As an artist and creator myself, I know how important it is to have somewhere to flourish, to take chances and work towards your goals and I want Castiel to have that kind of confidence in himself. Once he does, the rest will just… fall in line.” 

He joins Karamo in the loft’s craft room so he can pull a few fabric samples for the renovations. He’s thinking a lot of white to open the space with dark blue accents, a color that compliments both men’s styles. Bobby grins when Karamo pulls out ribbon in similar colors. 

“I want to leave here knowing that Castiel feels confident, and ready to take on  _ anything _ —not just that interview.”

Karamo snips a piece of royal blue ribbon from its spool. He carefully winds it around a stack of books, their titles curated by him, specifically for Castiel. There’s some of his personal favorites; Presence by Amy Cuddy, an amazing book about power posing, Unfu*k Yourself by Gary John Bishop about living your best life for yourself and of course, Becoming by  _ The _ First Lady, Mrs. Michelle Obama because well, everyone should own a copy of that. 

“Castiel is smart and capable and what I want for him is to  _ believe  _ that about himself, to know that he’s worthy of love and to go after it. Because if I’ve learned anything in my thirty-eight years on this wonderful earth it’s that sometimes, love is right in front of us and we’re too stubborn to see it.” 

Done with the books, Karamo joins Antoni in the kitchen where he’s already working on the menu. Antoni is happy to share his vision for their Hero. 

“My hope for Castiel is that I leave him with more skills than I found him. Anyone can cook, anyone can follow a recipe but you can always tell when a meal is cooked with love. And I think Castiel has a lot of love to share.” 

Antoni is all smiles as he chooses a hamburger recipe, simple but unmatched in flavor. He decides on easy, hand cut sweet potato fries, a healthy but still delicious side option. Add that to his own recipe for cherry pie filling and he’s almost set. 

“I knew when Castiel asked me to help him with the pie, that I’d have to outsource for the crust. I didn’t know I’d have the opportunity to get a recipe from a familiar face so I’m very excited to share what we have planned. As we like to say, Love is in the Details and expressing ourselves through food and the care taken to prepare a meal for another person to me, is the ultimate act of love. It will be an honor to help Castiel with this particular act.”

Menus planned and recipes in hand, he passes Jonathan coming from the bathroom, his arms full of products. 

“My beautiful boy Cas is low key, okay? He doesn’t need me loading him down with a long and complicated routine. My baby needs quick, he needs simple, he needs easy realness and I am here to provide.” 

He arranges a set of bottles in a small wooden crate, something he’ll be able to keep or reuse as a gift box. A brand new electric cleansing brush is nestled amongst the bottles. 

“I want to leave Castiel with an easy to follow routine that will keep his beautiful skin fresh and glowing, keep that hair under control, and really just help Castiel feel good. This boy needs a lesson in self care and I am so excited to be able to show him the joy of it. It’s really easy for us, as men, to think we’re less or weak for loving ourselves but that’s so wrong. If we love ourselves first, we can then really give that love freely to our partners and the people in our lives that love us too. And honey I am all  _ about _ that self love!” 

“Yes, and thankfully in the privacy of your own room,” jokes Tan as he passes by on his way to the loft’s closet, his favorite room of the house. It’s been outfitted with huge racks and a folding table, plenty of room for Tan to mix and match different shirts with pants and really work on a look for their Hero of the week. 

“For Castiel, I really want to help him find his style. The most wonderful thing about fashion is it doesn’t have to be scary, it doesn’t have to be difficult. As long as what you’re wearing makes you feel good and as long as you’re comfortable, you’re doing better than most. What we wear is an extension of who we are, and right now, Cas is struggling with that.”

The color palette he’s arranging is made of multiple shades of blues and dark colors, deep purples and reds, all colors meant to compliment Castiel’s tanned complexion. A rolling rack of different colored canvas and khaki colored coats is off to the side. 

“I’m going to give Castiel options, play with his love of comfortable tees and blend that with a more laid back style, while still keeping him looking good inside and outside the house. We are  _ done _ with the stuffy, oversized suits. I have a feeling a nice, correctly fitting suit could do wonders for him and I’m excited to introduce him to a whole new way of seeing himself.”

Done with his planning, he joins the rest of the Fab Five in the kitchen where they’re going over their final plans for Castiel and the week ahead of them.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I kinda think our objective has evolved,” Karamo’s eyes are dancing with mischief. “I know I saw it, and I know some of you saw it—something is  _ up _ between him and Dean. Now, I don’t know how long they’ve been dancing around each other, but my gut tells me a long time.”

“Forever. Since day one,” Jonathan adds. “Those two are about as obvious as I am gay, and—”  

“You’re really, really gay,” the rest of them joke, making Jonathan nod and smile enthusiastically.

“The gayest,” he confirms. “Just like those two pining little fools.” 

“So are you guys with me? I want to not only get Castiel ready to kill that interview, but I want him confident enough to go after what he wants and if that’s a relationship he’s been too scared to pursue, then I want to help him erase that fear.” 

“Do you think they really don’t  _ know _ ?” Tan asks, doubt flickering across his face. 

“I think if a person tries hard enough, they can deny themselves anything,” Antoni muses. “Sometimes people just need a little… encouragement.” 

“And I think  _ we _ are just the gays to give it to them,” Bobby says, confirming that all five of them are firmly on the same page about Castiel and Dean.


	3. Chapter 3

The sky is a bright azure blue, the heavy clouds that had plagued them gone, the sun shining bright without a cloud in sight. Karamo and Bobby are both wearing sunglasses when they meet up with Castiel and Dean at a local coffee shop.

Espresso Patronum is a cute little corner cafe with gold and maroon striped canopies that hang over large bay windows, revealing the inside of the Harry Potter themed shop. Castiel and Dean are drinking out of gigantic coffee cups when Karamo and Bobby arrive, both grinning from ear to ear at the clever decor. 

Bistro tables are scattered throughout the shop, all of them painted one of the four House colors. Each table has a House themed centerpiece, small candles or mini spell books in tiny cauldrons. A stuffed white barn owl in a gilded cage hangs over the register which shares a counter with a beautiful display case, fall colors already dominating the decorations. 

It’s cozy and warm and Castiel and Dean look right at home sitting together in a small corner nook, their knees pressed together under the table they’re sharing. Castiel is laughing over the rim of his mug at something Dean’s said, his blue eyes dancing with mirth. 

He lowers his cup when he manages to tear his eyes away from Dean long enough to notice the two men meeting them there. He straightens and Dean looks over his shoulder at them, grinning. 

“Mornin’ fellas,” Dean’s the first to greet them, him and Castiel both standing. Castiel steps right into Bobby’s hug, used to them by now while Dean’s still holding out a hand to Karamo, who just laughs and pulls him in before slapping him on the back in greeting. 

Dean’s flushed when Karamo lets him go and he palms the back of his neck. “Swear, I’m gonna get used to that.”  

“You will,” Castiel reassures him, patting his arm. Today he's dressed much more casual in a pair of black cargo shorts and a blue and yellow short sleeve flannel. Dean’s just as casual in jeans and a worn Zeppelin tee. 

They’re all interrupted by a  _ bouncy _ redhead wearing a t-shirt with Espresso Patronum in a familiar (but not familiar enough to get her in trouble) font and a grin splitting her face. “Gentlemen, welcome! Can I get either of you a drink?” 

“Karamo, Bobby, this is Charlie Bradbury, she owns this establishment,” Castiel introduces them, earning himself a playful eye roll from Charlie along with a punch to his shoulder. 

“And his BFF, but he never leads with that,” she teases Castiel, one hand on her hip. 

“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?” Dean’s not pouting, he swears. 

Charlie rolls her eyes at him too. “Yes, Handmaiden, I’m your BFF too,” she teases Dean and grins up at Karamo and Bobby who are watching this exchange with amusement. “So, drinks?” 

Karamo grins. “Iced coffee?” 

“Uh, to go?” Bobby requests. “Lovely as this is, we gotta get on the road!” 

“Yeah, you’ve got some work to do,” she tells them, her face serious but her eyes twinkling. “Happy to be the one to caffeinate you guys.” She’s off and behind the counter before they can get their thanks out. 

“She seems like fun,” Karamo muses, watching Charlie hustle behind the bar. “Definitely want to know the story behind  _ your _ nickname, Handmaiden,” he says to Dean, much to Dean’s chagrin. 

“Drinks are on me while you guys are in town!” Charlie’s all smiles as she hands off her creations with a wave.

Drinks in hand, they all make their way to the Denali while Castiel and Dean teach them about the honor behind LARPing. Bobby and Karamo are promising everyone’s attendance at the next Spring Equinox Battle by the time they get to The Container Store.  

The place itself is an experience, bright and open and in your face about storage solutions. The kitchen section is to the right and no one misses when Dean eyes it with interest. To the left is the luggage and large plastic bins, home goods along the back and right down the middle of the store are the office solutions. 

“Okay, first of all, this store has everything and it’s very easy to get caught up in all the stuff,” Bobby advises, leading them into the office section. He guides Karamo away from the small fixture of travel gadgets and gizmos. 

“Now, Dean knows why we’re here but I don’t think Castiel does, am I right?” Bobby’s being coy and he smiles when Castiel shakes his head and narrows his eyes at Dean, who’s wearing a shit-eating grin because he was able to keep a secret. 

“Dean?” The look Castiel turns on his best friend makes Karamo believe that their Hero might be well versed in getting his way with Dean. Karamo knows he’d never be able to say no if those big blue eyes were trained on him. 

Dean’s eyes dart between Bobby and Castiel and it’s clear he really,  _ really,  _ wants to spill the beans. Bobby takes pity on him and nods slightly. 

Dean outright beams. “Bobby’s gonna turn the Deancave into a workshop for you!” 

“Well, not quite—”  

“What, but that’s our space—”  

Everyone is talking over each other and the decibels are rising in the small aisle they’re all crammed in. A sharp throat clearing from Karamo quiets them all. “Bobby, some clarification please?” 

Bobby’s just laughing at this point and he nods. “I guess in Dean’s enthusiasm, he failed to mention I’m  _ splitting _ the room. Half workshop, half… Deancave?” He looks at Dean with an eyebrow raised. “That’s a new one. But it will be preserved and turned into a cohesive space to share.” Bobby looks pleased with himself as enthusiasm and wonder grow on Castiel’s face. 

“Dean?” There’s that look again. “You’re giving up half your space for me?” 

Dean’s brow furrows. “It’s not  _ my _ space, Cas, it’s always been our—it’s  _ your _ house, buddy,” Dean’s hand is clamped firmly on the back of his neck as he struggles with his pronouns. “Bobby made it sound so awesome, how could I say no?” 

“He tried to give me the whole room, don’t let him fool you,” Bobby advises, no holds barred in an attempt to break down the walls these two have built between each other and insist on keeping up. “But I don’t need it. What I  _ do _ need,” he turns towards the looming shelves full of sorters and trays and hanging wall files and waves his hands at them, “is for you to tell me specifically the things you need to store to create your games.” 

Bobby’s words seem to snap Castiel out of the daze he’s been in since being given the additional news that Dean was willing to give over the entire space for a workshop. “Yes,” he shakes his head to clear it. “I use a lot of small generic pieces like dice and pawns and other small tokens that one would use to create moving pieces on a board.” He clears his throat and turns towards the display showing all the variations on cabinetry the store offers. “Those thin drawer sets would be excellent for paper keeping.” 

“Cardboard, card stock, tissue paper, construction paper,  _ news _ paper,” Dean’s ticking off items on his fingers as Castiel nods. “He cuts up my car magazines after I’m done with them and stashes all the scraps who knows where.” Dean’s voice is full of affection for his friend. “These tiny drawers are really cool.” 

Karamo’s fighting back a smile as Bobby scribbles down different item numbers and makes notes about colors and measurements. 

“So, Castiel, tell me more about this passion of yours, why board games?” Karamo links his arm  through Castiel’s leading him around the corner to the next aisle. He’d made a plan with Bobby this morning to separate the two men while they were in the store. 

Castiel glances back over his shoulder as they turn the corner. “Are you sure they don’t need my input?”

“They’ll be fine,” Karamo reassures him, leading him towards the display of desks for sale. Bobby already has plans for an adjustable workbench so there’s no need for a desk, but Castiel doesn’t know that, and soon, his attention is drawn away from the other aisle and the men they left behind. 

Castiel nods absentmindedly as his fingers trail over a display of different finishes, woods of different colors and grains. “I’m one of four children. Our parents raised us with certain—expectations for our success.” Castiel is choosing his words very carefully. “My oldest brother is an Illinois congressman and my older sister is a district attorney in Chicago. Our youngest brother just graduated from John Hopkins and is starting his first year of Residency at Northwestern.” He leans in closer to examine a section of filing cabinets. “My father is a New York Times best-selling author and my mother is a retired judge with a storied forty-five year career.” He straightens and turns towards Karamo, who’s taking this all in silently and without judgement. 

“When I was accepted at KU, it was with a Psychology major, the expectation being I make great strides in a field yet untouched by my family.” He crosses his arms over his chest and drops his gaze to the floor. “I never felt the pull of success and money, I never found satisfaction in achieving it. I saw first hand that those things did not equal happiness by watching what my family did with them. Despite those feelings, I went ahead with pursuing Psychology, but I found it unsatisfying. And then I met Dean.” 

A smile slips on his face and Karamo doubts he even notices. Castiel continues. 

“He was struggling as well. He’d gotten into school but hadn’t declared a major and he wasn’t happy with the general education classes he was taking. It was a heavy course load, in my opinion, so it wasn’t a surprise for any one person to struggle. I happened to be the T.A. for his math class and we became fast friends.” 

They wander around the store, taking in all the different storage options, most things people really don’t need, but cool and useful nonetheless. 

“It was that first trip we took, to his uncle’s cabin?” Castiel checks to see if Karamo remembers the photo of him and Dean together on the dock. When it’s clear he does, Castiel goes on. “It might have taken a bottle of whiskey to admit it, but we both realized we weren’t ‘following our truth’, as Dean put it at the time. His mom was kind of a hippie.” Castiel’s smile is fond and sad at the memory of Dean’s mother while he uses air quotes. “We made a pact to keep each other in line and applied to be roommates the following year. Everything changed, after that.”

“What was your truth, Castiel?” Karamo asks carefully. 

Castiel stops in front of a shelf full of laundry hampers. “My favorite memories as a child were our family game nights. On the rare occasion both my parents were home, and none of my siblings were away at school, we’d gather around our dining room table and play board games.” The hampers seem to be the most intriguing thing but Karamo thinks Castiel isn’t looking at them at all. “Monopoly, Clue, Parcheesi; and so many card games. And I was good at all of them.” He raises his eyes to the ceiling and sighs. “Those game nights were the only time my family seemed to notice me, they all wanted me on their teams.” He smiles tightly at Karamo. “It was fun, I felt  _ normal _ and not like the kid who’d rather do puzzles and read weird books instead of extra credit projects and studying like my siblings. My mother used to say I lived with my head in the clouds.” His tone is scornful.

They’ve made it to the gift wrapping section and Castiel’s momentarily distracted by the different wrapping papers. 

“I showed my first game to my family, the first iteration of the game I’m presenting, actually.” If his tone is any indication, Castiel is now far away. “They thought it was stupid. Hard to understand. My father was the coldest about it, which I still find puzzling, considering that as a writer, he’s had to face the possibility of failure by outright rejection more so than anyone else.” He shrugs, like it doesn’t still hurt. “I gave up on my dream for a long time after that. Ideas would present themselves and I’d write them down, but that was it.” 

“I told Dean everything on that trip. Our first day as roommates, he asked if he could play my game.” The tightness has left Castiel’s smile, any mention of Dean triggering a softness in him Karamo can’t credit to anything else he’s heard Castiel mention since they met. 

“He’s your first beta tester,” Karamo says gently. 

“Dean’s always believed in me. It’s why you’re here, it’s why I have a game and why I have an interview.” Castiel meets Karamo’s eyes, his resolve wavering. He looks very done, wrung out by their conversation and it’s still early in the day.

“First of all, I really want to thank you for sharing your truth with me and not making me split a bottle of whiskey with you, okay?” Karamo’s tone is so jovial and reassuring, Castiel can’t help but relax. “Second, I appreciate the look into your journey because I truly do believe that where we come from helps define us. All of us are here with you because our individual paths brought us together.”

“Accidents don’t just happen accidentally,” Castiel says with a small, knowing grin. 

“I like that, yes, exactly,” Karamo laughs. “And look, not all of us have picture perfect childhoods and as gay men, we’ve had to work even harder for acceptance but that doesn’t mean we can’t be great. I am very much like you, I’ve always been different, I’ve always wanted to know what makes people tick and how people coexist and yeah, other people thought that was weird and I had to have my own come to God moments about it, you know what I mean?” 

Castiel nods as he follows along. 

“Maybe that’s what this can be for  _ you. _ Because you keep saying that Dean believes in you, that Dean got you here but did you ever stop and think to take some responsibility for yourself?” 

Castiel balks at that. 

Karamo smiles.

“You are an amazing, intelligent, and  _ kind _ man Castiel. Dean sees it, Dean tells you those things because they’re  _ true. _ If you don’t believe that, you’re essentially calling him a liar.” Karamo cocks an eyebrow at Castiel because he knows he’s right and he wants Castiel to think about it before giving his rebuttal. 

“I’m terrified the game isn’t good enough.” 

And there it is. 

Karamo doesn’t need a degree in psychology to read between the lines:  _ I’m terrified I’m not good enough. _

“It is.”

_ You are. _

“Trust yourself, Castiel. Trust what you know to be true, like the kids that look up to you and see you as a mentor and someone to admire.” Karamo tisks at Castiel shaking his head in disagreement already. “Do not shake your head at me, sir. Those kids love you, Principal Jo admires you; if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I might let you protest.” He holds up a hand and Castiel freezes, his protests dying on his lips. 

“I know it's difficult to see ourselves positively if we’re not in the habit of doing it. People think it takes twenty-one days to form a habit, but that’s a common misconception and it’s unfortunate because when people don’t see results in three weeks, they give up.” Karamo shakes his head. “New studies show it varies by person, but on average, after sixty days, most people can change not only something arbitrary like taking a vitamin every day but also habits ingrained in them since childhood.” He knocks his shoulder with Castiel’s. “Like thinking you’re never gonna be good enough.” 

Castiel’s quiet as he listens.

“Consider today Day One. Consider for the first time that  _ you _ are responsible for this new and exciting venture. It’s  _ your _ dream, Cas,  _ you _ made this possible.” They turn a corner and find Bobby and Dean at the end of the aisle they’ve entered, both of them engrossed in a digital program that designs closets, neither of them noticing Castiel and Karamo. 

“You’ve got a great guy in your corner, Cas,” Karamo says, his voice kind. It stops Castiel in his tracks. “It’s obvious he really wants you to succeed on your own terms.” 

“He always has,” Castiel says, distracted. 

Karamo can only hum in agreement because they’ve now been noticed, Dean beaming when he catches Castiel’s eye. 

He chatters at Castiel excitedly about custom closets and after Bobby confirms they have what they need, they watch as Dean leads Castiel towards the kitchen stuff, an arm slung over his shoulder, his hands splayed in excitement. Castiel meets Kamaro's eye for a moment before he’s agreeing with whatever Dean’s telling him.

Bobby raises his eyebrows expectantly at Karamo. “Well? How’d it go?”

Karamo looks at him, his face incredulous. “He isn’t gonna make this easy, I can tell you that much.” 

“Well, I got a good read on Dean and he is a Smitten. Kitten.” Bobby shakes his head in disbelief. “The guy practically defines the meaning of Heart Eyes and he seems to know just about everything when it comes to Castiel’s work.” 

Bobby stops them with a touch to Karamo’s arm before they can catch up to Castiel and Dean. “We aren’t wrong about them,” he says, serious now.

“You don’t have to tell me that, sugar,” Karamo says, in complete agreement. Castiel might be in denial about a lot of things, but Karamo hopes to erase his doubt not just in himself, but in the chance that Dean might feel the same about him. 

They don’t let Dean linger in the kitchen section for long, Bobby needing to get over to the house to get started and Karamo needing to get Castiel over to Jonathan for their appointment. 

“Well Dean, take a look at your boy because I’m about to hand him over to Jonathan and I know he’s just dying to get rid of that beard.” 

“Eh, we’re not too attached, right Cas?” 

“Itchy.” Castiel reiterates. 

It takes everything inside Karamo not to joke about how married they sound and instead takes Dean back to his car at the coffee shop, waving goodbye to Bobby, who’s hitching a ride back to the house. 

The salon he’s leaving Castiel at isn’t far and before Castiel climbs out of the Denali, Karamo stops him. 

“Day One, Castiel.” 

Castiel’s eyes widen at Karamo’s reminder. 

“Trust yourself.”

Castiel takes a deep breath and nods before pushing the car door open. “Day one. Trust myself. Okay.” 

Wide, blue, and slightly freaked out eyes turn on Karamo. 

“You got this.” Karamo nods in a way he hopes is reassuring. It seems to do the trick.

“I got this.” Castiel hops out of the car, nodding all the while, psyching himself up. 

“See you later, Cas,” Karamo calls through the open window as Castiel squares his shoulders and walks towards the salon with a determined stride. 

“I really hope he’s got this,” Karamo mutters under his breath before he pulls away, his trust projecting out to the other members of his team. If anyone can do this, it’s them.

 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 

Jonathan spins around in the swivel chair he’s sitting in when he spots the black Denali pulling away and Castiel hurrying into the building like his ass is on fire. 

“Cas, where’s the emergency girl? Are you that excited to start our time together because let me tell you, I’ve been waiting on the edge of my  _ seat _ and now that you’re here, we can have some fun!” Jonathan is out of his chair and on Castiel the moment he’s through the door, an arm over his shoulders guiding them to the back of the salon to a private booth for Jonathan to work his magic. 

He has Castiel in the chair and wrapped in a smock before he can blink, Jonathan wearing a dazzling smile and Castiel with a dazed look on his face. Jonathan’s hands thread through Castiel’s thick hair and he groans with excitement. 

“These locks honey, they are  _ luscious _ . Like, already you have this thick, full, healthy hair,” he pulls at Castiel’s hair and it stands up in peaks and points around his head. “Now imagine if you gave yourself a little self care and switched to a better shampoo, maybe a cleanser, a little product—just a little baby, don’t get scared—you’re gonna be even  _ more  _ smoking hot!”  

It’s the look on Castiel’s face that tells Jonathan he's gotta dial it back just a little or he's gonna lose Castiel before he's got him. 

“Okay, let's take it slow, me and you. I'm gonna start small, give these beautiful curls a little trim,” he keeps eye contact with Castiel in the mirror, his tone trying to be reassuring. “Look at these sweet baby curls behind your ears, I'd hate to lose them,” he coos as he plays with Castiel’s hair. Castiel’s still blinking owlishly at him in the mirror but it’s clear he’s starting to relax.

“Do you visit a barber regularly or…” Jonathan trails off, noting that it's clear Castiel’s getting his haircut  _ somewhere _ . 

“Dean cuts it for me,” Castiel mumbles, something in the wooden beams crossing the ceiling suddenly very interesting, based on how intently he’s staring at them. 

Jonathan spins the chair around and grips the handles. “Castiel, did you just say that Dean cuts your hair?”

Nervous throat clearing precedes Castiel’s answer. “Old habits die hard?” 

“Honey! You two are  _ not _ broke college students anymore, it's time you stop living like them!”  

He motions for Castiel to follow him and he situated him at a sink to wash his hair. 

“There's nothing wrong with taking time for yourself, in fact,  _ not _ doing that is the real crime honey.” Warm water soaks Castiel’s hair and Jonathan's long, practiced fingers massage his scalp. The tension in Castiel’s shoulders bleeds down the drain with the swirling water. 

“Why do you think you stopped taking care of your appearance? You said it yourself that you've let yourself slip.”

Jonathan's massaging a thick foamy cleanser into Castiel’s hair and Castiel’s eyes slip shut. A deep sigh rumbles in his chest. 

“I don't pretend to have loved my prior job, but it did dictate regular haircuts and proper grooming. Proper everything, actually.” 

Castiel’s eyes stay closed as Jonathan rinses the soap clean from his hair with more warm water. He begins to lather in a cream conditioner, pulling and sliding the strands between his fingers. It smells like mint. 

“When my job was terminated based on performance, I'll admit I didn't—that was difficult. And of course, it happened days prior to a family gathering for my parents anniversary.”

His eyes open and flick to Jonathan's face which is open and actively listening. He nods to encourage Castiel to go on. 

Castiel closes his eyes again. 

“It was disastrous. I told my father in what I thought was confidence but we didn't reach the end of dinner before the whole family knew. I believe my mother commenting that ‘three out of four wasn't bad’ was when I reached my limit.”

Jonathans hands still in Castiel’s hair. 

“I found a bus and got on it. I only made it as far as Springfield when Dean found me.” Castiel brow furrows. “He left the moment I told him what had happened. Drove five hours so I didn't have to ride the bus anymore.”

“Oh my goodness Castiel, it's like a fairytale or something.”

“Sure, if the protagonists family decides to stop talking to him because he's a failure. Unemployment and disownment in the same week has to be some kind of record.” Bitterness is pushing at the edge of his tone. He opens his eyes, cringing. “I'm sorry, I suppose I'm not as over it as I like to believe I am.”

“Cas, honey, no one expects you to just get over something like that!” Jonathan helps him sit up and wraps a terry cloth towel around his shoulders to catch any drips. “Here’s the thing, we can’t help the family we get, right? But we can choose the company we keep.” 

“You told me yesterday that you consider Dean family.” They walk back to the salon chair and Castiel gets comfortable as Jonathan runs a comb through his wet hair before picking up his scissors. “I am a huge advocate of found families, I have a large one myself and you know the best part of it?  _ I _ get to decide who’s in it,  _ I _ get to dictate who gets to stay and go. And if someone isn’t serving my life in a healthy way, bye-bye honey.” 

Jonathan cuts and snips and little dark brown slivers of hair fall onto Castiel’s broad shoulders and the ground below the chair. He moves with ease around Castiel as he makes a cut and then runs his comb through the strand, fixing whatever needs another trim. 

“Seems to me, you and Dean have a good thing going here,” Jonathan comments nonchalantly. “And I don’t think you should beat yourself up about the thing with your family. Sometimes it takes a lot for some people to be selfless and maybe they have a long journey ahead of them. My point  _ is _ , go easier on yourself, it means less stress lines.” 

Jonathan’s finally stopped cutting and he runs his hands through Castiel’s hair. While he was working, he’d spun Castiel away from the mirror so he can reveal the final cut. 

He hadn’t taken much; Castiel’s wild bed head being an appealing look that would be easy to style when the need arose, like for his interview but would one hundred percent work if he just ran some product through it before he walked out the door. Jonathan puts his hands on the arm rests, boxing Castiel in the chair to study his cut. 

Everything in order, he meets Castiel’s gaze. “Ready to take a look? You look gorgeous.” He bounces his eyebrows when Castiel gives him a nervous nod and spins the chair around to face the mirror. 

Castiel’s jaw goes slack as he takes in his appearance. His hair is thick and shiny, it’s natural wave moving the hair away from his face and over his ears, the longer strands on top sitting high above his forehead. Jonathan’s cleaned up his sideburns where they blend into his beard and well, he looks quite handsome. 

“Okay, so, what I did is just trim you up a little. It’s not that Dean was doing a bad job, it was just choppy and uneven in spots and your pretty little head deserves better, okay? Now, watch this,” he commands as he takes a comb and smoothes the front down, the hair falling into a clean wave, not a hair out of place. “See, the cut allows for an easy look right out of the shower and an easy transition to Mr. Professional, Mr. Game Maker, with your precious games and your incredible ideas.” 

Castiel’s cheeks are turning a lovely shade of pink. “I like it, very much.” He reaches up to hesitantly touch his hair. 

“It’s ok baby, run those long fingers through it, feel how soft and luxurious it is, yes!” Jonathan’s excited when Castiel pulls at his hair, pushing it back into a crazy halo around his head. “Yasss honey, let’s give the world what it wants, look at you!” 

Castiel’s hands fall out of his hair and into his lap and he looks down at them, a small smile playing at his lips. “I do happen to like my hair,” he confesses. 

“Okay, okay, that is great, I can work with that!” Jonathan moves around the chair to his station to lay out all the tools he’s going to use. Once that’s done, he leans down to take a folded black towel out of a small box and tilts Castiel’s chair back.

“I’m going to put this over your little beard here okay Cas, the heat will open up those cute little pores and soften those whiskers before we get rid of them.” He opens the hot towel and drapes it around Castiel’s face. “And plus it feels nice and do you smell that lavender? I threw a little essential oil in there to help you relax while we wait.” 

“It’s quite nice, thank you,” Castiel says, his voice a little muffled by the towel around his jaw. 

“You are welcome, honey.” 

Jonathan grabs his scissors first, intending to trim the longer hairs of Castiel’s beard in order to better shave it down. He doesn’t want to shave Castiel’s face clean of hair, just scruffy enough to help define his already sharp jawline. Plus, men are just attracted to scruff, it’s science; Jonathan did not make that particular rule, but he is thankful for it.

As Jonathan works to trim Castiel’s beard, he tells him what he’s doing as he goes. He explains that having a beard is great but only if you take care of it and he’s happy to give Castiel some tips and tricks to taking care of his face as he works. 

“Ooh Cas, you’re gonna love this, you look so damn good you are not gonna believe!” Jonathan makes sure to brush away all the errant hairs still stuck around Castiel’s throat and neck, wiping them away with a small feathery brush. “Are you ready to see yourself?” 

Castiel looks nervous, no doubt about it but he bravely nods his head and gives Jonathan a hesitant smile as he turns the chair around again.

“Oh wow,” Castiel says in response to his reflection. He runs his hands over his cheeks and down his jaw, the scruff scratching his palms. “This looks fantastic, I really enjoy this. Usually I’m quick to shave my face clean however I believe I prefer this to a close shave.” 

“What’s Dean gonna think?” Jonathan’s eyes dance with mischief. Now that he’s trimmed Castiel’s beard, the blush that paints his cheeks is even more prominent. “Mmm hmm don’t you worry honey, he’s gonna love it. Now,” Jonathan claps his hands. “Time for our massages!” 

“Our what!” Castiel exclaims, startled at the turn of events. Too bad Jonathan’s already disappeared through a doorway to their left. Not at all sure what he’s getting into, Castiel follows because what else is he supposed to do?

Jonathan is all smiles when Castiel joins him and their masseuses, two young women with welcoming smiles. Two padded massage chairs are side by side and Jonathan stands by one, an easy smile on his face. 

“Don’t worry honey, these lovely ladies are gonna give us a relaxing little massage to our shoulders and arms and things and you just need to sit there and enjoy it.” 

He shows Castiel how to sit on the chair, face down with his knees on the padding, the chair meant to hold their weight while still keeping them mostly vertical. It’s comfortable, even if putting his face in the hole takes some getting used to.

Once their massages are underway, it’s easy to get lost in the music playing quietly in the background and the repetitive massages being given to them. It’s Jonathan that breaks the comfortable silence they’ve slipped into. 

“So Cas, tell me about this job,” Jonathan requests, his voice making Castiel stiffen, if only for a moment. His masseuse runs a soothing hand over his shoulders. “You’re not just selling your game, right?” 

Castiel clears his throat. “Yes, that’s correct. While I am presenting my prototype for production, it is also, in a sense, my resume. I’ve had little to no experience in this field, aside from the games I’ve invented.” His voice waivers some. “It’s a rather unconventional way of applying for a job.” 

“Sounds like it,” Jonathan agrees. “How’d you land it?” 

“Charlie and Dean, actually. Dean insisted on taking the game to Charlie’s shop during one of her game nights. I agreed, not knowing Charlie’s girlfriend’s dad was the Head of Innovation at Hasbro.” 

Jonathan’s gasp is delighted. 

“I’ve spoken to him over the phone a few times and he’s the one who set up my interview a la demo with the Innovation team. I’ll present in front of the team I’d be joining, a jury of my peers I suppose.” 

“And all of this is happening up in Kansas City? This is fate, honey!” 

“The team is located in Los Angeles.” Castiel’s confession is quiet and Jonathan lifts his head in surprise, not quite sure he heard correctly.

“What was that? I thought for a minute you said this job was in L.A..”

The silence from the other chair is deafening. 

“Castiel?” Jonathan is straight up worried. 

A deep sigh has Castiel’s masseuse stepping away from him as he pulls his face away from the chair. “You heard correctly. I apologize if you feel we were misleading—Dean didn’t—doesn’t know and the thing is—”  

“Whoa, whoa hang on henny,” Jonathan is up and out of his chair to go to Castiel’s side. Their masseuses quietly slip from the room to give them the privacy they need for this conversation. “Dean doesn’t know you might have to  _ move?”  _ His voice takes on a high level of disbelief. 

“I said the team is located in Los Angeles,  _ not _ that I have to move,” he clears his throat and looks desperately at the ceiling like maybe a meteor might save him from this conversation. Too bad for him it never comes. “It isn’t entirely off the table however, I’ve stressed that relocation is not a preferable option, seeing that Kansas City is so close. Again, unconventional.”

“But they are considering it?” Jonathan’s still anxious for his new friends. “They must want you bad, not that we can’t all see why,” he teases, trying to lighten Castiel’s increasing tension, tension Jonathan tried so hard to ease him of with the massages. 

“I’m sorry if this changes things—”  

“Oh honey, don’t. Our job is to get you ready for this interview, to help you see how amazing you are and how worthy are of this opportunity! We’ll cross our fingers for the best scenario that keeps you here but ultimately, what makes  _ you _ happy, you feel me?” 

Castiel nods and relaxes, his shoulders losing their tense and rigid form. 

“Why didn’t you tell Dean?” It’s a loaded question but one Jonathan can’t hold back. 

Castiel’s gaze drops to the floor in shame. “I should have. I just—I didn’t want Dean to worry, especially when nothing is for sure and before, it was so far off and then everything happened with the show and—”  His sigh weighs a ton and fills the room completely. “It got away from me.” 

“I’d say,” Jonathan exclaims. “And I get it, I’m a protective guy too but I think you still have the opportunity to tell him. Can’t say anyone would like to be surprised by news like this,” his tone is gentle. “Especially someone who cares about you so much.” 

Castiel is quiet, his face contemplative as he considers Jonathan’s words. “You’re right,” he states, as if the answer was always obvious. “I need to tell him and I need to do it before the interview.” He takes a shuddering breath. “He’ll understand.” Scared eyes turn to Jonathan. “Right?” 

All Jonathan can do is reassure him. He hasn’t spent as much time with Dean as he’d like but from what he’s seen and from what he’s heard from his friends, it’s that Dean Winchester is a good man and good men forgive their friends when things get tough. 

With that in mind, they finish their massages and unfortunately, their time together. The fact that Castiel  _ might _ have to relocate isn’t enough to upend everything, but Jonathan knows he’s obligated to inform the rest of his team. 

He hits the group text with the news and the shocked gif and emoji responses tell Jonathan they’re just as surprised by the news.


	4. Chapter 4

Antoni and Tan get the text telling them about Castiel’s possible departure at the same time. The timing couldn’t be worse.

Both their phones lit up in the shade of the handcrafted wood patio cover sticking out of the rustic brick building. They'd been laughing over the bakery's name when they were interrupted by the news, barely having enough time to send off reaction gifs before Dean was letting them into the front door of the closed bakery.

The two men only exchange a look before they’re fixing their faces to hide any surprise that might be there. Antoni’s happy to take the lead as they enter the delightful space. 

“Okay Dean, we really need you to explain the name,” he requests, his gaze drifting over the interior, decorated simply, letting the white paint and exposed brick do all the work. Sprigs of dried herbs hang upside down along the top of the display wall, baskets of breads and shelves of treats under them. All the signs are hand written in chalk paint to add another layer of charm to the aesthetic. 

Dean laughs as Tan and Antoni wait for him to tell them how the bakery they’re standing in—Dean’s mother’s bakery—got its name. 

Pie of the Tiger. 

“It’ll be my pleasure but first, let me introduce you to one of my favorite ladies in the whole world, Miss Mildred Baker, owner of this fine establishment.” 

“Co-owner,” she chides, swiping at his arm. Antoni looks at Dean, surprised. 

“My mom’s half of the business came to me and my brother and Millie won’t let us write it over to her,” he explains, playful exasperation filling his voice. 

“Your mama would come back from the grave just to kill me,” she says, shaking her head and inviting them all to sit, a table already set with an impressive spread; fresh coffee and a steaming, straight out of the oven cherry pie, much to Dean’s delight, based on the way he keeps giving it sidelong glances as they talk. 

Once he’s fed and watered, Dean begins to explain the history of the bakery. 

“I was about four when we lost my dad, heart attack.” 

Tan and Antoni let out sympathetic murmurs. 

Dean takes another drink of his coffee, sighing deeply before he continues. “It really messed up my mom for a while, understandably—but to keep her active, Mildred here used to come over and teach her how to bake.”

“The Campbell’s were my next-door neighbors, most of my life. Mary was like a daughter to me,” Mildred chimes in with a smile. 

“Dad’s life insurance helped with the loans Mom and Mildred needed to open the shop and the way the story goes is, while they were working to get the store open, I was always here with my mom. Eye of the Tiger was the only song I’d listen to on my Walkman, and I was supposedly always underfoot.”

“He was a  _ dancer _ ,” Mildred chides. “Still is. Don’t let him fool you for a second. He’d bop around the cafe, playing his little air guitar and singing to his brother in his crib,” she tells them, her eyes fond. “The name was a perfect fit for our little family.” 

Dean’s blushing and rolling his eyes as he clears their plates, Mildred encouraging them to stand and head back into the kitchen. 

“Well we love the name and we are so thankful to be here,” Antoni gushes as they pass through a wooden swinging door that takes them to one of the most gorgeous kitchens he’s ever seen the inside of, and Antoni’s been in a lot of kitchens in his time. 

“Oh darlin’, the pleasure is all mine,” Mildred says with a coy smile and a gentle hand on Antoni’s arm. 

“You know the show is called Queer Eye, right Aunt Millie?” Dean teases her. “I think your chances of finding a husband might be a little low here.”

“That’s just because they haven’t tried my cupcakes yet,” she replies with a wink. 

Tan’s eyes light up. “I’d love to try your cupcakes Miss Mildred. What my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Same goes for my trainer,” he links arms with her and is happily led to the other side of the kitchen where the bakery’s frosting station is covered in unfrosted cupcakes. 

“Guess that just leaves us, Dean!” Antoni joins their nominator, dying to get to know him a little more while they work. It’s why he arranged this visit. Before they left after their first meeting, he snagged a few minutes of Dean’s time and ask for a huge favor; one that involved his mom’s bakery and a certain request from his best friend. 

Dean hands him a maroon apron before quickly and efficiently tying his own, the strings going around his waist, Dean’s long fingers tying a bow at his lower back. Antoni’s impressed, he’s seen world class chefs struggle with tying their own aprons. He cinches his tie behind his waist and makes a quick bow. 

With his hands washed and a warm smile on his face, Antoni joins Dean at the aged wooden countertop that lines the east wall of the kitchen. Plenty of space to work and roll out their dough. “Now that I’ve been exposed as not being able to bake, what can you teach me Dean?” 

In front of them, Dean has all the ingredients prepped; little silver bowls for the dry ones and a mason jar filled with ice water next to a stack of vintage ceramic pie pans that Antoni just loves. Dean grins when he notices Antoni eyeing them. 

“Pretty cool, right? They were my Grandma Deanna’s. Mom used them to make every crust for every pie she sold.” He nudges at the stack with a knuckle. “Not sure if these are the key to why mom’s recipe is the best out there but just in case, we’ve got a few at the house. Sorry, America.” Dean chuckles and Antoni can’t help but join him, charmed by the teacher who can also bake and obviously loves it. 

“Always surprised when people are scared of makin’ their own crust. It’s so  _ easy. _ Sure, we have our tricks but even the basics are simple.” Dean goes over all the necessary dry ingredients, admitting to cinnamon as part of their secret weapon to add greatness. Each of them are working on their own crust, side by side. 

“Do you find cooking as therapeutic as I do?” Antoni asks, his hands working at the dough that’s forming. “Because I find it easy to, I guess, get  _ lost _ in the repetitive tasks and the simplicity of just, following directions, right? That’s basically what cooking boils down to.”

Antoni follows Dean’s lead and adds tablespoons of ice water to his dough, enough to make it damp until there are hardly any dry pieces left. 

“So why do you think Castiel can’t do it? You’ve tried to teach him, right?”

Dean huffs. “Been tryin’ forever. You’d think a guy who has to write simple directions could at least follow some,” he jokes. 

Antoni smiles at that and is gentle with his next question. “Do you think it might be because he likes it when you cook for him?”

The tips of Dean’s ears turn red, his smile falters, and Dean’s suddenly engrossed in the dough forming in his bowl. “Probably why he hasn’t kicked me out all these years.”

It’s a weak attempt at sounding nonchalant but the insecurity in his voice is something Dean isn’t as skilled at hiding. His thinly veiled self depreciation breaks Antoni’s heart. He’s beginning to understand how complicated this whole thing is to the two men whose lives they’ve been invited into. 

“Dean, you don’t really think that’s the case, do you?”

“Nah, not really. I know Cas thinks of me like family, like—like a brother.” Dean’s dough is the most interesting thing in the room, judging by the way he’s kneading the absolute crap out of it. “Doesn’t mean I won’t hafta go, once he wants to settle down, so it’s a good thing you’re here to finally teach him right.” He’s wearing more of a grimace and less of a smile when he looks up at Antoni, who’s stopped working. 

“Dean? Stop. Come on,” Antoni prods, his heart thumping. “Stop selling yourself  _ and _ your relationship with Castiel short, okay? You think I’d be up to my elbows in flour if Castiel’s one request  _ wasn’t  _ to learn how to make pie? Oh and hamburgers,” he muses, his smile becoming cheekier as Dean takes in his words. 

Dean can’t believe anything he’s hearing. Throwing Cas’ name in for the show was half joke, half desperate attempt to get Cas back on track because Dean couldn’t do it; everything he tried, he failed and now, not only had the show chosen them but Antoni was standing in  _ Dean’s _ family bakery telling him in layman's terms that Cas cares about him, maybe not just as a brother. 

It’s impossible. Good things like that don’t happen to him, in fact, having Cas in his life is more than Dean deserves and now, Cas is gonna get this big, new job and realize that his life doesn’t have to be so small here with Dean in Lawrence. 

“What are you afraid of?” 

Antoni’s question pulls Dean from his thoughts and he shakes his head. The answer to that is simple and justifiable.

“Losing him.” Dean shrugs. “Can’t risk it.” 

He takes the dough in his bowl and gestures for Antoni to mimic him, using his big hands to mold the soft dough into a ball. Under the bowls, the countertop is already sprinkled with flour but Dean adds more before losing the bowl and letting the dough rest right on the marble. 

“I’ve lost a lot of people; my parents, grandparents. Brother moved out to California, few years back. And Cas—not only has he been there for most of it, but he’s lost people too. Not that his family was great but still, that wasn’t easy for him. Point is, a lotta the time, feels like we’re all each other’s got, me and Cas.”

“And that would be hard to lose,” Antoni reiterates. 

“Like I said, not worth it.” He leans down to pull out two rolling pins and hands one to Antoni. “Flour it up, there you go,” he nods when Antoni copies him. “Now try and roll it into a circle, doesn’t have to be perfect.” 

The two men get to work on flattening the dough, rolling while Dean explains what you’d do if you needed a crust on top but since these two are going to some pecan pies later, they don’t need a top layer. 

Antoni’s the first to break the silence. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“You don’t—”  

“Hear me out,” he stresses. “I wouldn’t push towards a happy ending if I didn’t see the potential for one, okay?”

Dean has no time to react because before he can, they’re joined again by Tan and Mildred.

“Already talking about happy endings over here, gentlemen?” Tan teases, only picking up on the last part of their conversation. 

Mildred laughs gaily behind him. “Oh, Tan, you are something, isn’t he something?”

“Oh, he’s something all right,” Antoni agrees with a cheeky smile, his eyes flicking over to meet Dean’s, the relief on Dean’s face as obvious as the freckles that paint his cheeks and nose. Antoni  _ is  _ a little less worried when Dean gives him a sharp nod, Antoni taking it as Dean’s way of acknowledging everything they’d discussed. 

“Now I’m stuffed full of cupcakes  _ and _ pie—”  

“Don’t forget the treats I’m sending y’all home with,” Mildred reminds him.

Tan nods. “—and very much looking forward to our special treats later, I have to get going, I have a hero to pick up and take shopping.” He kisses Antoni on the cheek and hugs Dean and Mildred tight, leaving them at the bakery to finish Antoni’s lessons.

 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 

Tan meets up with Castiel at a local menswear store, Castiel looking nervous but relaxing considerably when Tan hugs him hello. 

“How  _ are _ you, Cas? You look nervous, are you nervous?” Tan holds the door open and rushes Castiel inside, quick to brush past him and greet the owner as if they are old friends. “Don’t worry, this is one of my favorite shops in this area and Balthazar here is ready to help us with whatever we need.” He presses a hand to the chest of a tall, slim man, his wide chest shown off by a tasteful vee neck under a tailored blazer. 

Balthazar gives Castiel a once over, taking in his slightly too long jeans and maroon hoodie over a green t-shirt. “Now this, this I can work with,” he says as he smirks and takes Castiel’s hand to shake. “You weren’t kidding about blue being his color either, darling.” 

“I told you, he has an amazing color palette,” Tan replies, nodding his head. “Now come on, I am  _ so excited _ to show you some of the amazing pieces we’ve picked out for you. And Balthazar here is going to take some measurements, get you into a proper, grown up suit.” They approach a changing area, a clothing rack filled and waiting for them. 

“I know how important comfort is and based on what I’ve gotten to know about you, you like functional as well so it was very important for me to find you a style that’s going to incorporate both of those things,” Tan explains as he flicks through some clothes on the rolling rack. “I have a few outfits waiting for you in the fitting room so let’s get started, shall we?” 

His smile is encouraging and it puts Castiel at ease. He’s even more pleased to find some of his band shirts hanging in the small fitting room. He changes into one of them—grabbing the Led Zeppelin shirt first like it’s second nature—with a pair of dark washed denim jeans. Barefoot, he exits to find Tan waiting for him, a jean jacket in his hands. 

“Okay, yes Castiel! You’ve been hiding this hot bod from us, haven’t you?” Castiel’s cheeks flush. “Look at your arms, I feel bad covering them up with a jacket like I’m committing some kind of crime against humanity or something.” 

Tan slings the jacket over the top of the rack so he can fuss with Castiel’s shirt, pushing the front into the waistband; his signature French Tuck. Castiel smiles softly as Tan tugs the jeans to sit right on Castiel’s hips. “Dean always reminds me to do a French Tuck,” he tells Tan, receiving a beaming smile in return as Tan rolls the sleeves of his band tee a few times. 

“I absolutely love to hear that and look at you, look how amazing you look and you’re just in a t-shirt and jeans.” Tan grips Castiel by the shoulders to turn him towards the huge, floor to ceiling mirror they’re standing beside. 

Castiel’s eyes grow wide as he takes in his appearance. “This looks nice, I really like the fit of these jeans.” He looks down and twists his foot, appreciating the tailoring on the ankles. “It’s nice not to have them dragging on the floor.” 

Tan shudders. “Please, no more traumatic stories. That’s the past and we’re moving forward to a future where you look incredible in clothes that fit.”

He finally holds the jacket open for Castiel to shrug into, smoothing down the shoulders and tugging it down in the back before stepping back so Castiel can see how he looks. “My favorite thing about this look is that it works in a lot of ways. We added this denim jacket and now you’re ready for a baseball game, or game night at the bar, wherever you’re going to hang out, to relax but still look your age while also staying comfortable.” 

Tan grabs another jacket, this time a midnight blue blazer. “Take that off and let’s try this.” 

Castiel’s quick to take the denim jacket off to pull on the blazer. He fixes the collar and closes the button on the front, appreciating the cut and fit of the jacket. 

“You can keep that open, if you want. See what we did? Something as simple as a blazer, a little nicer jacket and you’re ready for date night.” 

Castiel’s eyes fly wide open and his startled gaze meets Tan’s knowing one in the mirror. 

“Oh yes, don’t think I’m out of the loop on that, dear,” Tan advises him. “From what I hear there will be date nights in your future and I can think of at least one person who will definitely appreciate this new look you’ve got going here.” 

Tan’s confident grin makes Castiel consider that he might be right. 

“Okay, next look. Back to the changing room. I left you some options but know that anything hanging in there will work so don’t be afraid.” Tan sends Castiel off with a little push back towards the dressing room. 

This round of choices is a lot different from the last. This time, it’s all button up, short sleeve,  _ patterned _ shirts, much like the shirts Dean’s been attempting to get Castiel into for some time. It was never that he didn’t like them, he liked some of the prints at home very much—but they’ve always felt so far out of his comfort zone that Castiel continued to rely on the same clothes over and over. 

Now, he chooses a deep purple button up, big lilac and cream colored lily flowers covering large portions of the shirt. It’s  _ nothing _ Castiel would ever walk past in a store and even look twice at, let alone pick up, try on,  _ and buy. _ He takes a deep breath and slides the shirt over his shoulders, quickly buttoning the shirt and admiring the colors Tan was right about. They are flattering. 

A pair of fitted linen pants in a gorgeous charcoal grey follow and Castiel tucks and untucks the shirt a few times, finally leaving it to hang, figuring he’ll let Tan fix it. He runs a hand through his hair, the incredible haircut Jonathan gave him allowing the hair to fall into its natural, wild wave. Taking a moment to appreciate his own jawline, it’s not hard to imagine Dean finding him attractive. He tells Castiel he looks handsome or nice often and Dean’s usually the first to point out that Castiel might need a haircut but that doesn’t mean he’s anything but a good friend. 

Castiel’s best friend. He stares at his reflection in the mirror and reminds himself of that, the usual reminder when he lets his thoughts stray except this time, five voices are shouting back at him that he is good enough, that despite Castiel’s failures, he’s worthy of his dreams, worthy of Dean, of continuing to build a life with his best friend and the only man Castiel’s ever loved. 

He can always try to sell his game to Fisher Price next. Or Mattel. Castiel would apply to every single toy company in the world if he has to, as long as Dean’s there with him. 

Castiel straightens his shoulders and gives his reflection a shy smile before leaving the dressing room. 

Tan sees him and gasps. 

“Yes! I was  _ so _ hoping you’d pick that one! It was my favorite and I said to myself I was going to ask you to try it on if you didn’t choose it so I’m thrilled.” Tan’s grin is so wide, Castiel can’t help but give him a gummy smile in return. “Don’t you love it? You look absolutely fabulous, Castiel.” 

“The print—”  

Tan is already holding out the same blazer as before and Castiel obediently puts it on. “First of all, these colors are incredible. The navy jacket mutes the pattern just enough so you look nice, a bit polished but still—”  

“Comfortable.” They say together. 

“So you  _ are _ comfortable in these clothes? No problem with the other prints?” Tan looks anxious, anticipating Castiel’s answer. 

“I don’t know what my problem was,” Castiel admits. “I like this look very much.” He beams at Tan. 

“So we love the prints? Castiel! You’ve made my whole week, okay, this is perfect,” Tan claps his hands. He shows Castiel a few more combinations of shirts and blazers, things Castiel can mix and match and throw together quickly and easily whenever he means to impress. 

It’s towards the end of their conversation that they’re interrupted by Balthazar, a measuring tape draped around his neck and a black tablet in a fancy case, a handle attached to the back big enough for the man to slip his hand in to hold the device. 

He lets out a low whistle. “Castiel, you look fabulous. That shirt does amazing things to your eyes,” he informs him, giving Castiel a once over. “Tan, you truly are a master at your craft, darling.” Balthazar gives him a quick bow before turning back to Castiel, his measuring tape sliding off his neck after a firm tug. “Now how about you stand there and look pretty while I take measurements for your suit.” 

Castiel can’t do much to argue, Balthazar already pressing lengths of tape against the back of his shoulders and down his arms, pausing to make a note on his tablet. He hums the theme song from Titanic as he works, Castiel only able to recognize it because it was Dean’s favorite movie for almost one whole year after they moved in together. 

“Based on your closet, I know you’ve never owned a proper suit and to be honest, most men don’t so don’t feel bad. However,” Tan stops waving his hand around to point at Castiel. “What you had going on in there was a travesty and it’s my job to make sure you look good for this interview and damn it, I am determined not to fail,” he exclaims with a laugh. 

Balthazar’s hands are pushing Castiel’s legs apart, the length of measuring tape going up the inside of his leg but Castiel ignores it to take one of Tan’s hands in his own. 

“Thank you,” he says, serious. 

Tan’s eyes soften. “You’re so welcome, Castiel.” 

Balthazar straightens, finished with his task. He excuses himself with cheek kisses and promises of a finished product that will have them all blown away.  

“He certainly is confident,” Castiel comments. 

“See what happens when a man knows he looks good? He’s confident.” Tan bounces his eyebrows. “You will be too, when you walk into that interview, I promise.” 

As he changes back into his jeans and hoodie, Castiel mulls over Balthazar’s confidence in himself, in Tan’s confidence in him and his ability to succeed. He considers the amount of time Dean’s dedicated to encouraging Castiel to believe in himself. It’s all he can think about as he drives to meet Karamo, and Castiel considers their morning routine with a smile, Dean’s persistent song choice starting to make sense. 

He’s singing it quietly to himself when he pulls up to their house, construction well underway. Karamo’s waiting for him out front with a bundle of clothes tucked under an arm and he's appreciating Castiel’s car again as he climbs out. 

“Still love this car, Cas. You’re gonna have to let me take her for a ride before we leave here,” Karamo requests before wrapping Castiel in a one-armed hug. “Johnny told me your time together was uh-mazing, but he undersold this new look you’ve got going on,” Karamo holds Castiel at arms length, looking him over. “I am loving this scruff, do you love it?” 

Castiel clears his throat and nods. “Very much.” 

“Hell yeah, okay. A little birdy told me you like running, so I thought you might want to take a run with me?” Karamo looks hopeful when he holds up the bundle of clothes and gives them a little shake. “Got you some workout gear for you to change into.” 

Relief courses through Castiel. Running he can handle. He takes the clothes and finds an empty production trailer to change in, doing his best to ignore the flurry of activity going on inside the house. Castiel can hear Bobby’s laugh from inside when he joins Karamo back in front of the house. 

Castiel veers them to the left, the repetitiveness of his daily routine putting him on auto-pilot. Karamo follows with no prompting. 

“How many miles do you normally do on a regular morning?” Karamo asks as they jog along the shady, tree-lined street. 

“Six miles, as long as there isn’t a tornado warning,” he replies. 

Karamo stops for a second, shaking his head with a grin before jogging a little faster to catch up to Castiel, who’s smiling. 

“Sometimes I can’t tell when you’re kidding, man,” he huffs out, making Castiel smile wider. “You up for six miles now?” 

Delighted, Castiel nods before taking off in a sprint, taking Karamo by surprise. He’s quick to take off in a run, the two of them racing almost a mile before they declare a mutual truce since neither man wanted to give up. 

“You’re in great shape,” Karamo comments as they slow to a jog, both men breathing hard.

“No job, plenty of time for long distance running,” Castiel replies, coughing a bit. “I’ve also come up with some great solutions to creative blocks on runs.” 

“My creative process includes shopping,” Karamo jokes, making Castiel crack a smile. “We have kind of a crazy schedule and I don’t get to run as much as I’d like so really, you’re helping me out here.” 

“It’s my pleasure.” 

Karamo nudges Castiel with his elbow. “Soon there will be a job.”

“Hopefully, yes,” Castiel replies. 

“How are you feeling about the interview? Now that our time is almost coming to an end, is there anything else you think we could talk about that you might benefit from?” 

“I feel good about the interview and I  _ know _ the game is good enough I just—”  Castiel cuts himself off, frustrated. He digs in a little harder and speeds up to try and burn that feeling off.

Karamo picks up his pace to keep up. “You don’t want to move,” he states. It’s no secret that would be devastating to the two men.

“Of course not!” Castiel exclaims, his outburst startling them both enough to halt their running. They stare at each other, chests heaving as they both gulp in deep breaths of air. Castiel’s eyes are wide and nervous. “My apologies,” he says in a rush. “I don’t normally—”  

“Castiel, it’s  _ fine. _ You wanna let it out, come on then, let me hear it. You gotta vent to someone Cas and it may as well be me.” Karamo gestures at him to bring it on, gearing up for a hell of a rant that Karamo knows must be brewing.

But it’s like the fight goes out of Castiel, his shoulders losing their rigidness and his voice soft when he speaks. “This is my dream job. My  _ dream.  _ A dream I’ve had since I was a child.” He begins to walk slow, Karamo matching him step for step and falling in beside him. “What kind of joke is God playing, offering me this opportunity, only to add this caveat? It’s unfair, to dangle happiness right in front of me only to know achieving it would mean losing so much?”

Karamo’s heart breaks for his friend. 

“I’d much rather my heart be the only one broken in this scenario.” 

This time it’s Karamo that stops them, grabbing Castiel by the arm and giving him a tug. “Do you know you’re selling your best friend short when you say things like that? Selling yourself short too,” Karamo stares at him, imploring him to understand. “Castiel, Dean is  _ in love with you. _ I know that seems impossible to you, or scary, or whatever it is that’s stopping you, but it’s true. It’s  _ real,  _ Cas.” 

Castiel’s shaking his head, so far in denial about the possibility, he continues to fight the very idea. Too bad Karamo is done dancing around this subject. 

“I know you have yourself convinced that you’re the only one who is going to get hurt here but I  _ promise _ you, that is not true. And worst-case scenario? If you  _ do _ have to go to L.A., I genuinely believe you and Dean have a bond so profound, not even fifteen hundred miles between you could mess that up.” 

Their steps slow to a crawl as Castiel and Dean’s house comes into view, the Impala parked out front beside the Continental, her owner nowhere to be seen. 

“I told him,” Castiel replies, his breath catching. “Last night. About the possibility that I might have to move.” 

“And?” Karamo’s been wondering if Castiel had told Dean the news and he’s nervously anticipating Dean’s response. 

Castiel clears his throat. “He was quiet for a while. He wouldn’t stop looking at his phone and I thought—I thought he was so upset he couldn’t even look at me. Turns out he was googling flights to Los Angeles.”

Warmth blooms in Karamo’s chest and he silently cheers the other man, never doubting Dean’s faith in Castiel and their unique relationship. He gestures towards the house and the black muscle car gleaming in the sun. “Dean’s here to help paint. Bobby put a call out last night for volunteers and Dean was the first to arrive. He was out getting more paint when you arrived,” Karamo doesn’t miss the shock that crosses Castiel’s face. “That man  _ loves _ you. Come what may.” 

“I bite the words back,” Castiel confesses, his voice raw. “I bite them back, every day. ‘ _ I love you _ ’.” 

Karamo turns, surprised but delighted to finally hear Castiel admit to something he’s been denying since they met. 

Across the way, Dean comes out of the house, moving boxes from a truck with Bobby. They’re both laughing at something Dean’s said.

Castiel watches them go back inside.

“Every day I stop myself from blurting them out. When he’s brushing his teeth and he smiles in the mirror at me. When he’s reading in my favorite chair, always whatever book I’ve been talking about. He thinks I don’t see him reading them but I do, I always do and he does it just so he can understand me when I talk about it.”

He swallows thickly. “I have to bite my tongue when the first thing he does when he gets home from work is check for me. He hasn’t even taken off his coat and he’s asking if I’ve eaten or if I need anything and how my day was. My days consist of nothing and he listens to me talk of them like—”

Castiel cuts his own rant off with a sharp sigh.

“Every time I swallow those words down, the pit in my stomach grows, the lie gets bigger and I just—”

“What lie, Castiel?” Karamo asks, his voice gentle. Castiel looks like he wants to be anywhere else, like he’s willing to launch himself into the sun just to get away from this conversation he knows he can’t take back. Karamo doesn’t want to spook him.

“The lie I tell myself that I’m ok with just being friends, that it’s  _ enough _ , that I don’t need Dean more than I need air some days, that it's not him that soothes every one of my frayed edges and that without him in my life, I honestly don’t know how I’d even—”

He sighs deeply. “I’ve spent a long time convincing myself that the risk of losing Dean far outweighed anything else.”

“That’s the biggest lie of them all, Cas,” Karamo says with a light touch to Castiel’s shoulder, finally drawing his attention away from the house. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of.” 

They reach the house and Karamo decides Castiel needs a break, some time to regroup after such an emotional talk. “How about we take that ride now?” Karamo asks, opening the passenger door for Castiel before heading around to the driver side. 

They drive for a while, both men in their thoughts until Karamo breaks the silence. 

“You remember what I said, after our talk at The Container Store?” Karamo keeps his eyes on the road but he can see Castiel nodding out of the corner of his eye.

“Trust myself.”

“Trust yourself, Cas. This is life changing, scary stuff man but you know what?” They pause at a stoplight and he finally looks over at Castiel to see the resolve building in his eyes. “You gotta trust that you’re gonna get it all, man.” Karamo shakes his head softly and grins encouragingly at Castiel. “I believe in you, I know the rest of the guys do and I know for sure Dean does or we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” 

He’s just said something that not even Castiel can deny. If Dean didn’t care for him as deeply as Karamo says, he’d never have exposed their lives to the show or to the probability of being pushed beyond all their comfort zones. 

Karamo’s right. Tan’s right. One by one, the Fab Five have slowly altered Castiel’s impression of himself, piece by piece. By building on a foundation Dean laid through years of friendship, it’s much easier for Castiel to accept these statements and see himself like the people who care about him do. 

The revelation makes Castiel feel lighter than he has in years. 


	5. Chapter 5

Reveal day. It's everything the Fab Five have been working towards all week, Bobby especially. He arguably has the hardest job of them all but he never complains, always thrilled when their hero and their families enjoy their new homes.

It's why Bobby’s already at Castiel and Dean's the morning of the reveal, putting the finishing touches on the house. He and his crew had worked late into the night but after a few hours of sleep, Bobby’s back at it. Dean left a few hours before sunrise, having spent almost the entire day before at the house, an extra pair of hands on call for whatever Bobby needed.

Anytime he'd finish a task, Bobby would find Dean up in the attic going over the new additions to the room, intent to make sure Castiel’s new work space was perfect. Bobby had finished everything he needed to do the morning before but Dean spent much of the night making sure all the drawers were organized correctly, making adjustments where he saw fit.

It's where Bobby knew he'd find him, this time rearranging the order of the three succulents in the little wooden planter box that sat along the back wall of the new desk.

“I like it just like that, with the little short one in the middle,” Bobby says, making Dean jump and turn towards him, sheepish.

“Sorry, just want everything to be perfect, you know?” Dean rubs the back of his neck.

Bobby raises an eyebrow at him. “Look who you're talking to!” he teases. “It's perfect, Dean. I promise,” Bobby reassures him. “He's gonna love it.”

Dean stands back and observes the room. “Cas deserves it.” He turns to Bobby, “Thank you, seriously.”

“Don’t thank us, you’re the one who got us here,” Bobby advises. “You did this for Cas, don’t forget that.”

A small smile crosses Dean’s face at the mention of his friend. “Cas changed my whole life. In college, I was done, a quitter. Couldn’t keep up, no matter what I did and I saw other students just, breezing through and it frustrated the hell out of me. Plus,” he swallows thickly. “My mom had just been diagnosed. It was a crappy time and Cas saw me drinking my blues away in a bar off campus.”

Clearing his throat, Dean crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’d seen him around, he was the T.A. for my math class but I didn’t think he knew me, smart guy like Cas. He came up and called next game on the pool table I was playing at. Did my damndest to win that game, let me tell you,” Dean chuckles. “Cas whipped my ass!”

Bobby barks out a laugh which Dean copies.

“He’s a hustler, the game skills sneak up on you,” Dean kids. “But seriously. After he kicked my butt at pool, he invited me out for a cup of coffee and somehow got me to tell him all my problems. Hell of a listener,” he says, his grin fond. “Course, my dumbass had already killed my housing for next year because in my mind, I was _not_ going back. Cas fixed it all. He helped me catch up on my classes, tutored me through some. Yelled at me for choosing so many hard classes,” Dean shakes his head. “Got us roomed up together, even though he had scored a single. Cas is just—he’s the best guy I know. Selfless, _kind._ Not many kind people left on this planet but Cas—Cas’ kindness is infectious.”

Dean releases his arms to gesture around the room. “This is good, this is what Cas deserves. The best.” He turns his hundred watt grin on Bobby and it's hard not to get taken aback by it.

Bobby just shakes his head at the man beside him. “Now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“You’re right, did it work?”

“Hell yeah,” Bobby says with a laugh. “But I can see what Castiel means to you. I’ve never had another nominator here, offering their help. You’re a special person, Dean Winchester and in all our time together this week, I learned that _you_ are kind and you care a whole hell of a lot about your best friend.”

Dean ducks his head. “Appreciate that,” he mumbles. “Don’t know where I’d be without Cas and y’all are helping me repay him for pretty much saving my life, so thanks,” he looks back up at Bobby, his gratefulness clear on his face.

“Just doing our jobs,” Bobby says, knocking his shoulder with Dean’s. “Working with you and Castiel this week has been a dream, believe me.”

“Well, we could do this all night,” Dean muses. “How about we just hug it out?”

He opens his arms and Bobby claps before stepping in to Dean’s embrace. He lets out a little squeal when Dean hugs him tight. “Oh, everyone will be so jealous, you’re a great hugger, Dean!” Bobby squeezes him tight before letting go. “You owe the other guys one of those!”

Bobby looks over the space one last time, hopeful that no one will be disappointed at the end of the day. His confidence is boosted further when Tan arrives first thing in the morning to set up Castiel’s closet, along with Antoni to start prepping the kitchen. They ooh and ahh over the redesign and all agree that the attic space is perfect for the two men. Their collective excitement is palpable as they wait for their Hero and the rest of their team to arrive.

 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 

The warm, summer wind whips through the Continental, Karamo happily behind the wheel with Castiel riding shotgun but this time, Jonathan is in the backseat.

“Look at you two babies, enjoying the wind in your hair,” he muses. “Thank goodness I put my hair in these fabulous braids so she stays in place. She would not like this wind, no thank you.”

Karamo smiles at him in the rearview mirror. “Your hair looks beautiful, baby.” He glances over at Castiel. “How you feeling today, ready for this?”

Castiel’s hand unclenches on the bench seat between them. “Do I have a choice?” He’s trying to sound jokey about it but he fails. He’s nervous about seeing Dean and it’s overriding his anticipation about seeing the house.

“Look Castiel, I will pull this car over until you are ready, just say the word.” Karamo eases off the gas and the Continental slows on the highway.

Castiel shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “No, no, please,” he gestures at the road. “Please continue, I might be acting a touch dramatic.”

“That’s my job, henny,” Jonathan interjects, making Castiel smile.

“Really, I’m fine.” Castiel sits up straighter and drags a hand through his hair. “As you say, _we got this.”_

Karamo lets out a hearty laugh and snaps his fingers a few times before returning his hand to the wheel. They’re coming up on the house, the driveway empty and waiting for their arrival. Dean’s not set to arrive until later.

“We _do_ got this, Cas,” Karamo tells him, throwing the Continental in park. Antoni and Tan are smiling, both of them draped over the railings of the small porch, ready and waiting to welcome them inside.

Castiel throws his door open and steps into the sunlight.

He’s ushered inside, not even given a chance to appreciate the newly painted railing and refinished porch swing. The Fab Five scatter to their prospective corners to let Bobby give Castiel the tour.

The newly renovated living room takes Castiel’s breath away. Bookshelves formerly occupied by books, tchotchkes, and their photos are now built-in bookcases, the books arranged alphabetically, the souvenir clutter gone. The photos remain but are in all new frames that match the dark accent colors.

Bobby’s transformed the rest of the space into a comfortable reading area; a deep reading nook under the window, large black pillows against a bluish grey fabric making the space look cozy and inviting, which is exactly what Bobby does by sitting himself in the nook, patting the space beside him for Castiel to follow.

“It’s beautiful, Bobby,” Castiel breathes out, climbing in beside Bobby. The two men fit comfortably.

Bobby leans in. “You told Karamo that Dean likes to read too so I thought _maybe_ , reading here together could be a cute new thing you could do.”

The longing in Castiel’s eyes is clear. Being close to Dean is really all Castiel ever wants and he wasn’t kidding when he told Karamo he was ready for this. For _all_ of it.

“I think you might be correct.”

Bobby’s wide smile helps sooth Castiel’s lingering nerves because despite how brave he feels, there’s still the chance they’ve all read Dean wrong but if Castiel’s being the most honest with himself, he thinks even if Dean doesn’t love him back, they’d be able to remain close. It might break Castiel’s entire heart but there’s nothing in this world that could make him walk away from Dean.

Bobby moves them along to the kitchen and he breaks out in a huge grin when Castiel gasps at the remodeled room. The kitchen was already in the most decent shape of all the house but it gave Bobby great pride to make it even better for the two men.

The room has all new cabinets, the wood grain painted an off white, the woodgrain faint but apparent enough to give the finish a warm feeling. The large island has been refinished to match, the sides designed to look like a barn door. Two large, dark grey light fixtures hang over the space, complimenting the backsplash; a unique slate and navy blue plaid print.

Castiel’s eyes widen as he takes in the new, stainless steel appliances, including a shiny built-in double oven.

Antoni’s standing next to it, a face splitting grin on his face. “Do you love it?” he asks enthusiastically.

Castiel looks back and forth between him and Bobby nodding in wonder. “This is incredible Bobby,” he says, taking in the rest of the room. “Dean might faint when he sees this, for sure when he sees that oven.”

“Isn’t it awesome? Antoni helped me pick out the appliances and said a good oven is important for a baker and since you’re soon to be one, we had to make sure you had the proper tools,” Bobby tells him with a sly grin.

Antoni beckons him towards the sink where he’s rolling up his sleeves. “Come on then, we’ve got work to do,” he says, motioning to Castiel to wash up.

While he talks and Castiel washes, Antoni takes pie crust fixings from where he has them prepped and hiding under the counter. “I’ve got complicated recipes for days but for you, I went ahead and wrote out a few of my favorites, things that won’t take long to whip up, if you just follow the steps. Including hamburgers,” he adds with a wink.  

The last item he takes from the cabinet below is a small, handbound notebook containing different hand written recipes from Antoni’s personal collection. He hands it to Castiel with a twinkle in his eye. “You can decide if you want to share it with Dean or not.”

Castiel chuckles. “Once he knows I have this, it will join all his other prized cookbooks.” He looks around for said books but doesn’t see them.

Bobby straightens from where he’s been leaning, watching Castiel and Antoni. “You’ll find them all in the lower cabinet to your left,” he informs them. “That said, I need to check in with the others, so I will leave you in Antoni’s capable hands.” He breezes out with a wave and a sly grin.

Antoni gives Castiel a warm smile when they’re side by side. “Remember when I confessed that I’m not much of a baker? Well,” Antoni ducks down to take one last item out of the cabinet. “I outsourced and found myself getting tips from an expert baker we both know and love.” He places a small stack of familiar pie plates that once belonged to Mary Winchester.

“Dean said that the secret to his mom’s recipe was in these plates.”

Castiel picks up the top pan, his eyes wide as he turns the old plate in his hands. “Dean shared Mary’s recipe with you? But—no one knows that recipe but him and Miss Mildred.” He looks up at Antoni, his blue eyes brimming with tears.

“Hey, Cas, it’s ok, he was so happy to share it _for_ _you_. We talked about loss, and what it meant to lose his parents and how really, it’s been the two of you for a long time, is that right?”

Castiel clears his throat as he runs a finger along the ruffled edge of the pie pan where the dough will sit and form into a flakey crust. “Yes, that’s true. We’ve been through much together, Dean and I. I’m incredibly lucky to call him my friend.”

“Well, I think you’re both lucky. And now I’m going to show you how to make him a pie and let me tell you, pie crust is easy, turns out! Dean laughed at my stress, can you believe that?” Antoni asks with a laugh that Castiel returns.

“He’s a very good teacher.”

“He really is and now, I get to teach _you_ how to do this,” Antoni knocks their shoulders together and they get down to business. By the time Antoni’s done showing Castiel how to mix the ingredients and roll the dough flat, he’s all smiles and _confident._ He presses the crust into the pan like he’s done it a thousand times.

“You are ready, Castiel, I had a feeling that once you got the basics down, you’d be good at this. I always say that cooking and feeding another person is the ultimate act of love and care that you can pass on to them and now you have this brand new shiny kitchen,” he gestures at the crust they just made, “and a new set of skills to share with Dean and the rest of your found family.”

“Thank you, Antoni,” Castiel says sincerely. “Cooking means a lot in our house and this kitchen—it’s just incredible and I’m so grateful, and Dean’s going to be so grateful, and cooking for him here will be really special because,” he takes a deep breath, a breath deep enough to rock his shoulders up and down. Castiel says his next words in a rush.

“I’m going to tell him how I feel that night, here, over pie and his favorite whiskey and I don’t know how it will turn out,” slightly hysterical laughter slips out. “But I’m doing it, I have to, for both of us.” Castiel’s eyes are a little wild but the excitement coming off him is contagious and Antoni can’t help but hug him.

“This is the _best_ news, Castiel, oh I love a happy ending,” Antoni gushes, his hands still on Castiel’s shoulders. “Okay, okay, I’ll finish this pie and you go tell the boys your good news!”

Castiel laughs, a happy, stuttering laugh that bounces off the walls when Antoni spins him and pushes him in the direction of the hallway and he’s still smiling when he’s intercepted by Jonathan halfway to the bedrooms.

“Well, hey there handsome, what’s got you in such a good mood?” Jonathan croons, arm around Castiel’s shoulders.

Castiel smiles up at him from under his arm, his denim blue eyes sparkling. “I’m going to tell Dean.”

“Yes, girl, yes!” Jonathan cheers. “Okay then, let’s go check out your new bathroom and get you all ready for the ball, Cinderella!”

Jonathan guides them into the redesigned bathroom via Dean’s room (which Bobby gave a new coat of paint and new floors just because he likes the guy so much, all of which makes Castiel hum appreciatively) and he stops short at the entrance to the bathroom they share.

Every one of Bobby’s designs is as impressive as the last. In their bathroom, he’s made the space bright and clean; a long, frameless mirror stretches across the length of the wall and behind it, gorgeous hexagon tiles frame and accent the mirror in deep blue and grey hues. A flat counter, matte black, stretches under the mirror and two raised, white sinks share the space. Matching tiles in a larger size line a brand new walk-in shower, their silly shower curtain long gone and replaced with a glass door.

“Don’t you just love this new bathroom? Isn’t it just gorg?” Jonathan’s busy fussing with his basket of product, straightening it so he can present it to Castiel.

“I love it, I love everything,” Castiel says, his eyes still roaming over the new space.

“I knew you would. Now look here,” Jonathan gets Castiel’s attention, ready to show him a few last tips for his morning routine. “I put all the important stuff here in this little basket so all you have to do is pull it out, use what you need, and just tuck it back under the sink here, see,” he demonstrates, pulling open the cabinets and showing Castiel all the space for their toiletries.

Jonathan leaves the basket of goods out and shows him all the hand picked items he curated, just for Castiel. “Now, remember, self-care is number one, honey. Every day, give yourself a few extra minutes in here doing your little routine and it’s going to make you feel so good,” Jonathan shakes one bottle at a time at Castiel and lines them up in the order he needs to use them. “An easy, quick cleanse, and then just a little of this moisturizer, full of SPF to protect your handsome face,” he shows him the new cleansing brush and a shave kit he put together for both men.

“Your brush is here with some styling cream, a little pomade, remember what we talked about? Your hair has a beautiful mind of its own so we are going to get it cut regularly, _not by our little Dean-_ _o_ _,_ and it will serve you wonderfully, whether you want to be Mr. Professional or Mr. Sex Hair, whatever mood hits you, okay?”

Castiel smiles at him in the mirror and makes a show of fixing his hair, flicking it off his forehead and smoothing the sides back.

“Yes, Castiel, just like that. Throw a little creme in there, yes, perfect. Do you think this is something you’ll do every day for yourself?”

“You’ve certainly made it very easy to do so, how could I not?” Castiel muses. “And Dean will be happy.”

Jonathan laughs. “Yes, my little product King, don’t you worry about him, his side of the cabinet is good to go, we hooked our favorite teacher up honey.” He leans over and shows Castiel a small, hidden panel that exposes a digital display. “And tell _him_ not to worry, your music is built right in here and the speakers are hidden so you two can still power pose your way through your morning routine, okay?”

“Thank you,” Castiel says, his smile bright. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

“You are,” Jonathan teases, his eyes shining. “Ok, you’re gonna make me so proud so go on over there to your room so Tanny can take care of you.” He gives Castiel a little spin towards his bedroom door. “I’m going to get the Babies together so you can give us our little fashion show so go on, get ready to work it.”

Castiel’s laughing when he enters his bedroom, his eyes once again going wide. One wall looks like exposed brick, Castiel’s bed pressed against it, new sheets and comforter in dark colors, greys and whites. Everything else is bright and open, light filling the room. A giant, slate grey beanbag chair is in one corner, a globe light hanging above; the perfect reading spot with stacks of Castiel’s books already occupying space on the hardwood floor.

It’s Castiel’s perfect sanctuary. It’s made even better when Tan emerges from inside the closet, a huge grin on his face.

“Well? Isn’t it fantastic?!”

“It’s wonderful!” Castiel exclaims, his arms sweeping out. “I love the look of the brick a lot!”

“Yes, our little Bobby did an amazing job, _as always_ ,” Tan says, nodding his appreciation at the room. “Wait till you see the closet.”

Castiel’s eyes light up when Tan pulls him inside the newly organized space. There are two rows of shirts, the top with button up and long sleeve shirts, the bottom with short sleeve t-shirts, all of Dean’s band shirts and some new ones from Tan as well. Shelves hold jeans and slacks in different colors; denim, grey, black, tan and even a maroon pair. Below that, shoes, boots, and a pair or two of sandals.

“So this is pretty self explanatory, we’ve got your shirts for all occasions, from going out to casual, you can put it together. I wanted to make this easy on you so it all works together, you’re going to be pretty hard pressed to make any of this not work, okay?”

As he talks, he pulls out a few shirts and a pair of jeans and thrusts them at Castiel. “Let’s start with these, this is nice, casual, but still age appropriate and attractive.”

Tan waits, stretched out on the new beanbag chair, Karamo joining him. They both react appropriately when Castiel comes out of the closet, both of them making appreciative noises and jumping to their feet to fuss with him.

Tan tucks in the front of the vintage band tee—this one a Rolling Stones tee, their signature open mouth logo faded across the chest. Without prompting from Tan, Castiel’s added a dark denim jacket over it and based on the way Tan’s nodding at him, he did well.

“Castiel! You look _so good_ , Tan, he looks great, how do you feel?” Karamo’s enthusiasm is contagious because he’s making Castiel smile wide.

“I feel great, all the clothes are wonderful, everything has been and I can’t thank you enough.”

“Well, don’t thank us just yet,” he says, a sly grin on his face. “Dean’s out there.”

The smile drops off Castiel’s face and his eyes grow wide. “What? Is he supposed to—I don’t think I can—”  

“Whoa, whoa, Castiel breathe,” Karamo says, grabbing Castiel by the shoulders. “It’s _okay,_ he’s here for the reveal, he’s here to support you. You don’t have to tell him now.”

Castiel startles. “You know about that?”

“Oh honey, you told our baby Antoni, you better believe we already know about it. And we are so thrilled for you but this, this is just you, us, and your best friend getting _you_ ready for your interview, okay?”

He gives Castiel’s shoulders one more squeeze before he lets go. “Ready?”

Castiel takes a minute to breathe, Karamo’s right, it’s just them, it's just _Dean,_ and he can do this. He gives the both of them a sharp nod and straightens his shoulders.

“Are you gentlemen ready?” Tan calls out ahead to Dean and the rest of the team, all waiting in the new kitchen for Castiel to make an entrance. Dean is hovering anxiously by the island and his entire demeanor changes, his face lighting up when he takes in Castiel’s new look. It’s almost amusing the way his body relaxes as he steps towards Castiel so subconsciously, it’s hard to tell if Dean even notices.

Jonathan and Bobby are praising Tan and telling Castiel how good he looks and everyone is all smiles when Castiel even does a little spin to show off his look.

“You look so hot, Cas!” Bobby exclaims, making Jonathan laugh out loud and nod his head in agreement.

“We love a vintage band tee!” Antoni says with a grin as he leans against the cabinet, all his weight in his hip. Tan shakes his head and gives Castiel a knowing look.

“That shirt looks familiar,” Dean teases him. It makes the tips of Castiel’s ears turn red but he still grins wide at Dean before pointing down to his crotch. Dean’s eyes ( _and everyone else’s)_ grow wide as he follows Castiel’s finger, his throat clicking as he swallows.

“A French Tuck,” he points out, looking back up at Dean with teasing eyes. Karamo’s the first to bust out a laugh that fills the room, the rest following and now Dean’s ears are pink as he shakes his head at all of them.

“Terrible influence on you, Cas,” he pouts, tucking his bottom lip out for a second before pulling a quick, sparkling smile. He shuffles closer to Castiel, his hand already reaching out to capture the corner of Castiel’s jacket, tugging it between his finger and thumb once, twice, his eyes taking their time to sweep across Castiel’s chest. “It’s a good look.”

“Thank you, Dean. I uh, I like it.”

“We _all_ like it,” Jonathan calls out, breaking the tension between the two men that was threatening to take over the entire room. Almost on instinct, Dean drops the corner of the jacket and both of them take a step back.

Tan clears his throat and gives Castiel a pointed look. “I think we’re ready for our next look,” he hints, shaking Castiel out of his daze and into action, following Tan back into the bedroom with only a quick glance back at Dean as he leaves the room.

Already in the closet, Tan calls to Castiel to join him. “Get in here, lover boy,” his voice is teasing and it makes Castiel laugh. The adrenaline of seeing Dean is making Castiel a little giddy and his stuttering laugh gives him away.

“See, this is the fun part, yes?” Tan asks. “Let’s dress you up a bit, I kept some of those patterns you liked, added a few more, some fun prints like this one with the little bees embroidered in and kept some smart patterns in there too, depending on what mood you’re going for.” He flicks through the shirts and Castiel already knows the one he wants to wear.

Dean laughs the loudest when Castiel emerges with the bee shirt on under a black blazer with a pair of tailored pants and a pair of black boots.

He looks hot and no one is shy about telling him.

“This is the date night look, gents,” Tan advises the room, not shy about nodding right at Dean when he says it and he grins when he sees Dean nodding right back with an eyebrow raised.

“Think I might be raiding _your_ closet, here on out, Cas,” Dean says, looking Castiel up and down again.

Castiel raises an eyebrow at his best friend. “If you’re lucky,” he says, cool as a cucumber, quirking one side of his mouth up before turning back to the bedroom.

Karamo’s eyes are wide with amusement and he has a hand clamped over his mouth as he follows behind Castiel.

“Cas-ti- _el!”_ Karamo exclaims, the door hardly closed behind him. They left the room to a rush of ribbing at the way Castiel left Dean, mouth hanging wide open in shock and Karamo can’t blame him at all. “I am _so damn proud of you!”_

“Was that—I think that was a flirtation,” Castiel huffs out a laugh. “Did you see his face? That was fun,” he muses as he shrugs out of his jacket.

Karamo is bent over clutching his stomach in laughter. “Yes, Cas, that was a _great_ flirtation. Can I just tell you that I am loving your confidence here? You know you look good, you _know_ Dean thinks so and you just owned that whole moment.”

“Remember what I told you about confidence, Cas,” Tan calls out from the closet. “One last outfit,” he states as he exits, in his arms an exquisite suit, _Castiel’s_ new, custom fitted suit. It’s navy blue, almost midnight in color , a lavender tie against a crisp, white shirt.  “Every confident man needs a good suit and _this_ is a _great_ suit.”

“It’s spectacular, Tan,” Castiel breathes out, taking the suit from Tan’s arms, gently, reverently. “I think I could get any job I wanted in this suit.”

Karamo and Tan exchange an excited look and it’s more than worth the wait when Castiel finally emerges.

The suit is perfect. The fit is perfect and Castiel wears it well. The suit transforms him; he’s standing tall, his shoulders square and he even fixes and pulls at his cuffs, glancing up at his audience and absolutely slaying them both with his piercing gaze.

“Okay honey, tone it down,” Karamo says, a little breathless. “That suit is dangerous, I almost feel bad for anyone who dares get in your way when you’re wearing that.” He tries to fan himself, pulling at his shirt to get some air flow after Cas brought the heat.

Castiel’s wide grin transforms his entire face and Karamo didn’t think it possible, but he looks even _more_ handsome. He shakes his head. “We need to pray for Dean, Cas about to go out and make that boy’s eyes bug out,” he giggles when Castiel’s grin turns mischievous.

“He’s enjoying this way too much, Karamo,” Tan says with a laugh, holding the door open for Castiel to walk through, but not before Castiel runs a hand through his hair, turning it wild.

Satisfied, he leaves the room, each of his steps commanding and confident as he sweeps into the kitchen and the existing murmur of voices falls silent.

“Holy shit.”

Dean sputtering around his words breaks the lingering silence and thank god because it kicks everyone else out of their awe and into gear, all the guys crowding around Castiel to get a better look.

“Ok men, this is it— _the_ suit. Didn’t I tell you my guy was good?” Tan fusses just a touch with Castiel’s collar, smoothing his hand down Castiel’s chest. “You look phenomenal. Now tell them what you told us before.” He’s quick to spin Castiel away from him and Castiel straightens.

“I told them I’m confident that I could get just about any job in this suit.”

The joy and relief and _accomplishment_ radiate from all the members of the Fab Five. The man they met a week ago, the man from the video, resigned to their help as a last resort — he’s _long_ gone. In his place is a bold, self-assured man, someone empowered to take his destiny into his own hands.

No one fails to notice Dean hanging back, pride practically bursting from every pore in his body. He’s almost vibrating with it, one hand clenching and unclenching as he stares at Castiel, still looking at him with a certain kind of wonder that comes when one is staring at something they cherish.

Castiel’s eyes meet Dean’s through the commotion and the two men share a smile, one just for them, one everyone feels bad interrupting.

It’s Bobby that does it, clearing his throat loudly and breaking Castiel and Dean’s gazes. “We have one more space to explore,” he singsongs. He’s looking up at the ceiling, reminding everyone that the attic space is still up there, waiting to be discovered by the group, and more importantly, Castiel.

“Oh, you’re right, my apologies!” Tan jumps into action, taking Castiel by the hand. “Let me get him out of this suit and we’ll be right up,” he promises over his shoulder as they go back to Castiel’s bedroom, quick to pull a large garment bag from the closet before letting Castiel in to change.

Tan’s eyes widen when Castiel emerges.

He’s changed out of his suit and into some of the new clothes, ones they considered casual; his old shirt replaced with a navy blue henley, his too long jeans switched out for tailored black pants because Castiel just couldn’t wait another moment to get out of his old clothes.

He looks amazing and it takes Tan a minute. “Wow, okay, sorry,” Tan laughs softly. “Looking at you just reminds me how good I am,” he claps and grins at Castiel. “Okay, one last surprise.”

Tan unzips the garment bag and pulls out two, brand new form fitting trench coats. Castiel's eyes grow wide when Tan holds them up.

“Your other coats were hideous, but that’s just because they were frumpy and stiff and just plain sad.” He looks between the two garments. “But these, these lovely jackets are mature, and professional, and they’re going to _fit_ you.” He gives Castiel a moment to admire them before he’s tucking them into the closet. “No more suits and coats that our grandfathers would wear, yes?”

To say Tan is surprised when Castiel grabs him and pulls him into a tight hug is an understatement. “Thank you,” he says fiercely, his cheek pressed to Tan’s.

“You are _so_ welcome, my friend.” They part and Tan squeezes Castiel’s shoulders once before he drops his hands and gestures towards the door. “Shall we?”

Tan’s dancing as he follows Castiel down the hall and up the stairs and a laugh bubbles out of him when Tan uses one hand to cover his eyes. “You’re gonna love this Cas, you ready?” He gently guides Castiel into the room where everyone is waiting, smiling, and anticipating the final reveal.

Castiel nods and Tan removes his hand. The brightness of the room makes him blink and his face opens up with growing joy as he takes in the remodelled room.

Bobby’s gone all out. The ceiling is now white, stained wood beams stretching across the space and crossing, bringing a warmth to the room. The walls are matching shiplap and the newly built-in desk and storage are dark against the clean, bright walls. Cleverly hidden whiteboards are installed to one side next to shelves styled with books and framed photos of Castiel and Dean.

The other side of the room is now a lounge; a two person recliner faces a large flat screen next to another bookshelf that hides a dart board. Large, leafy plants spill in from the sunroom and make the new lounge area look cozy, warm twinkle lights woven around the space only adding to the comfortable feel.  

“This is _incredible,_ ” Castiel breathes out, his eyes trying to take everything in. “This is for me?” He’s made his way to the work area, already pulling open tiny drawer after tiny drawer. He’s making delighted noises in the back of his throat as he discovers all the ways they’re organized.

“Dean took care of all of that, he was here till what? Eleven last night?” Bobby asks, attempting innocence. “Wanted to make sure it was perfect.”

“Dean?” Castiel tilts his head and stares at his best friend imploringly. “You organized this? It’s just as I’d have—” He takes a step towards where Dean stands behind their new recliner. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” Dean grunts out, hands running idly over the back of the chair. “Space looks great, right?”

Castiel holds his gaze a moment longer. “It does,” he agrees before turning to address the room. “We’re—we’re so grateful, to all of you, for everything. If I’m being honest, I didn’t know what to expect when Dean told me I was chosen,” he looks back at Dean and gets an encouraging nod of his head to continue. “I think having you here is the best thing that could have happened, for us—for me,” he corrects himself and straightens his shoulders. “So, thank you. Sincerely.”

There isn’t a dry eye in the room as they all witness the culmination of a week of their hard work and there’s absolutely no stopping the group hug that erupts, all the men grinning and wiping away tears and in the middle of it all, Castiel and Dean giving hugs back just as fiercely as they receive them.

“Believe me when I tell you that the pleasure was completely ours, guys,” Karamo assures them.

Dean clears his throat, almost like he’s nervous. “Can I ask you guys for one last favor?”

Bobby widens his arms and gestures around the room. “You don’t think we’ve done enough?” he teases, making Dean blush and shake his head.

“Just don’t think it would be right if y’all left without us taking a picture, for our shelf?” Why Dean would ever think any member of the Fab Five would turn down a selfie, they will never know and they respond in kind, crowding around both Castiel and Dean and all of them beaming into Dean’s cell phone camera.

Dean promises to send them all a copy but keeps the photo to himself for the time being, not quite wanting everyone to see that instead of smiling into the camera, his eyes are glued on Cas because truth be told, he’s been glowing with joy and Dean hasn’t been able to stop staring at him all afternoon.

He can’t even stop himself from glancing over his shoulder one last time as he’s being ushered back downstairs to say their final goodbyes.

Karamo keeps Castiel back though, wanting one last chance to speak to their Hero, one on one.

“I’m proud of you,” Karamo states, right to the point. “You’ve come so far from the man I met a week ago. You’re standing taller, you’re confident, it’s all just radiating off you Castiel. You take this feeling with you when you walk into that interview, and there’s no failing.”

“I made a few inquiries,” Castiel says suddenly. “In case they want me to—to move,” he has trouble with the words, proof positive that the threat of leaving Lawrence is still hanging over his head. “There are other companies I can interview with, that I _will_ pursue , if necessary . All of this change, this _space_ , I can’t imagine walking away from any of it.”

“You are recognizing your value, Castiel and that is so powerful. You are ready to go out there and get everything that you want, _including_ the guy.” Karamo raises an eyebrow at Castiel who’s face, instead of looking terrified at the thought, breaks into a wide, gummy smile.

“Do you really think he loves me back?”

Karamo can’t even blame him for one last, fleeting moment of doubt.

“Hell yes, Castiel! _Trust_ your relationship, _trust_ your best friend, and most importantly, _trust yourself._ That boy is head over heels for you okay and now, we are gonna leave you to it.”

Final goodbyes filled with last minute hugs are exchanged when they return to the group, all of them sad to part ways. They try to make up for it with lots of enthusiastic waving as they drive away from both men who are happily waving back. Dean’s arm is thrown over Castiel’s shoulders and Castiel looks like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.


	6. Chapter 6

It’s almost a month later, when a delivery arrives from Lawrence, addressed to the Fab Five. Karamo finds it first and when he sees who it’s from, he calls for a group meeting immediately.

Once they’re all gathered and anxiously waiting, Karamo brandishes the package with a wide smile. “Guess who sent in their follow up,” he singsongs, holding the box up. “Castiel and Dean!”

The rest of the guys cheer, excited to find out what’s going on with one of their favorite Heros and his best friend since they last saw them.

Karamo opens the package, finding two items inside the box, both covered with brown wrapping and instructions written on the tops.

One says “Watch me” and the other instructs them not to open until otherwise directed. They all exchange a look as Karamo loads the DVD into their player, hitting play as he settles into the couch amongst the rest of the men.

The video opens to Castiel, standing in front of the mirror fixing his hair. Everyone reacts, a few of them clapping, Jonathan yelling out, “Yes girl!” and Bobby letting out an appreciative whistle.

“His haircut is absolutely fabulous, Johnny, you did such a great job,” Tan gushes, happy to give Jonathan credit where it’s due.

“His hair is _amazing_ , you guys have no idea,” Jonathan tells them. “I just hope he keeps up his haircuts and doesn’t let Dean cut his hair anymore.”

Karamo busts out laughing. “Why does _that_ not surprise me?”

Jonathan just replies with a roll of his eyes. In the video, Castiel moves on to the closet, pulling his perfect suit out and admiring it before the video cuts to him, in the suit, and addressing the camera.

“Today is my interview,” he states, nervously tugging on his tie. “I’m ready, the final draft of my game was submitted to the team a week ago and it looked good, I _felt_ good about it. I didn’t immediately want to change ten things and I still don’t.”

Karamo whoops.

“Cas! Let’s go, you’re gonna be late!”

Dean’s voice off camera makes Castiel grin. “He’s insisting on dropping me off, I’m taking the train into Kansas City in,” he checks his watch, “an hour.” The camera cuts to a series of drawings drawn by children, all of them addressed in messy scrawls to “Mr. Cas”, all the different drawings wishing him luck in some way or another.

“Dean’s students made me these cards, wishing me luck and I’m bringing them all with me. I feel very lucky to have so much support and thanks to all of you, I look good and I feel the same.”

The camera cuts back to Castiel leaving the house in his suit to meet Dean where he’s waiting, door to his Impala open, one arm propped there as he watches Castiel approach him. They all watch Dean scurry around to Castiel’s side to open the door for him and more hollars fill the air at Dean’s smooth move.

Another cut to Castiel, a face splitting grin on his face, his tie loosened and his previously styled hair wild and flying in the wind. “You guys can pause this and open the other package now.”

Karamo pauses the video and gives the rest of the guys a curious look before he unwraps the second package at Castiel’s direction. They _all_ start yelling as Karamo pulls back the paper to expose a glossy, royal purple box, the word “Panda-moniun” spelled out in a cartoon-ish font in a deep blue. Adorable, cartoon animals march across the bottom of the box and around the edges.

“Cas’ game!”

“He did it, he got the job!”

The blue, smiling Hasbro logo is prominent above the name of the game. Castiel’s game.

“This is so cool!”

Jonathan and Antoni open the box and set the game up as Karamo hits play on the video again, back to Castiel’s smiling face behind the wheel of his Continental.

“I hope you guys like the game. They didn’t even bother with niceties, they just asked me what they needed to do to hire me. It was—incredible.” He drags a shaky hand through his hair. “I negotiated my salary and stipulated that I needed to stay local. Aside from occasional business trips to Los Angeles, I can work from home.”

The Fab Five clap and cheer the news that just keeps getting better.

“They’ve already contracted me for five additional games, out in time for the holidays. I haven’t told anyone yet, not even Dean and I’m on my way home to surprise him. I’m going to cook us dinner and—I’m going to tell him everything.”

The video cuts to Castiel in the kitchen putting a beautiful pie in the oven. The guys rib Antoni as they watch Castiel flip burgers on the skillet. A tray of perfectly cut sweet potatoes are waiting on the island to be cooked.

“He’s a natural, I knew he was a natural,” Antoni muses. “He looks so good in there.”

“Gonna drive Dean crazy,” Tan says with a laugh.

“Especially in those jeans, henny,” Jonathan teases. “You did so good on those looks, Tanny!”

“And the kitchen is gorgeous, I think it’s my favorite room,” Karamo tells Bobby who nods in agreement. “I think we can call this one a success!”

“Oh, shh, shh Dean’s coming in,” Antoni waves for their attention to get back to the video.

Dean’s walking in and pulling off a brown leather jacket, a stunned look on his face.

Castiel has their dinner’s plated, two hamburgers for them both and a mountain of sweet potato fries between them. Two tumblers of whiskey are served, an expensive looking bottle opened and breathing between the servings.

“Cas? What the heck is all this man? What are you even—”  

“I got the job—they’re gonna make my game, Dean, I got it! And I don’t have to move!”

Castiel’s barely finished breaking the news when Dean crosses the room and wraps him in a tight hug. He slaps Castiel on the back once before stepping back, shaking his head and just staring at Castiel in awe. “I knew it Cas, I knew they wouldn’t be able to say no. Best news I’ve heard in awhile, man.”

They start to eat, both of them leaning towards the other from opposite sides of the island. Dean’s making borderline absurd noises, praising Castiel’s new skills as he eats.

The video cuts to two empty plates—only crumbs and swipes of ketchup left behind—an almost empty bottle of whiskey, two tumblers, both half full, all discarded between the two of them. The pie Castiel baked is there too and all formalities are non existent because they didn’t even bother with plates. It’s just two forks jammed into the middle of the pie and now Dean is holding the camera and pointing it at Castiel who’s wearing a playful scowl.

“Okay, tell them what you just told me.”

“Dean.”

“Come on, Cas, we need to get this on camera, for posterity.”

Castiel crosses his arms over his chest. “Fine. I said, you were right.”

“About?” Dean draws out the question and all the guys chuckle.

“About all of it, the game, the job, the show, all of it okay? You were always right.” He drops his arms and steps closer to Dean who chuckles.

The camera starts to move, like Dean’s doing a victory dance. “Oh, I love to hear that, say it again, Cas, tell the world buddy.”

Castiel just shakes his head, amusement and pure happiness in his eyes as he watches whatever Dean’s doing behind the camera. It’s almost like he hardly realizes he’s speaking until the words are completely out of his mouth.

“I love you, Dean.”

The camera freezes and the frame falters, down and away from Castiel’s face.

“What? What—Cas?”

They can see Castiel step even closer to the camera.

“I’m in love with you.”

His confession is clear and it’s the last thing the Fab Five hear when the camera cuts off and the screen goes dark.

 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 

**_#QEHIPTIP_ **

“If you’re not sure about making a big love confession of your own, confide in friends!” Karamo smiles warmly at Antoni sitting across the table from him. A small breakfast is spread between them, steaming cups of coffee next to plates of buttered toast. “Sometimes the opinions of your nearest and dearest can make all the difference in the world, don’t you think Antoni?”

“I _do_ , Karamo! Our friends get an outside look at this potential relationship that we could be totally blind to, so it never hurts to ask!” Antoni beams back at him and holds up his cup.

Karamo lifts his own drink. “And as always, remember to trust your instincts. Our biggest hurdles are usually our own insecurities so don’t forget to remind yourself that you’re amazing, and brave, and worthy of an equal partner.”

“Good luck!” They clink their mugs together.

 

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

 

“I’m in love with you.”

Wide, emerald eyes blink at Castiel, at his confession and Castiel has to move quick to catch the camera as Dean’s arm falls to his side. It’s already off when he sets it down on the countertop between them.

Dean isn’t saying anything, Castiel doesn’t know why Dean isn’t saying anything and panic seizes him, it makes his blood run cold, the fear of things falling apart after Castiel got everything else he’s wanted and worked towards.

None of it means anything if his confession makes him lose Dean.

“Dean, I—”

“Say it again, Cas.”

“What?”

“Tell me again, Cas because I don’t think I heard you right so please, can you please say it again?”

Castiel smiles because the way Dean’s looking at him, like he’s trying to work it all out, is so endearing and adorable and Castiel knows in that instant, he’s doing the right thing.

“I’m so, _so_ in love with you, Dean Winchester.” He takes another step closer to Dean and the way he’s looking back at Castiel makes everything worth it. “I wouldn’t have any of this without you, Dean. I wouldn’t _want_ any of it without you.”

“Say it one more time,” Dean whispers.

“I love you.” Castiel steps close enough now to lace their hands together, his newly found bravado making him bold. “And I’ve been waiting a long, _long_ time to kiss you,” he says, tugging Dean closer. He can smell the whiskey on Dean’s breath. He tilts his head. “May I?”

Dean closes the fraction of space that separates them, leaning in and making their lips brush together and it’s an explosion, a crackling of electricity that sparks when their mouths meet and they both gasp in unison.

That’s all it takes before they’re _kissing,_ each grabbing at the other; Castiel with one hand grasping Dean’s shirt and the other tangled in his hair. Dean’s hands feel like they’re everywhere and Castiel burns where Dean’s fingers brush against him.

It’s like they’re holding onto each other for dear life, and it’s nothing Castiel ever, in a million years, thought he’d get to experience.

The joy Castiel feels is threatening to burst from his body, he thinks he might even drown in it because Dean is kissing him, kissing Castiel _back._ He thinks it impossible that this moment is real until Dean starts laughing against his mouth.

The warmth and the love that washes over Castiel makes the dam break, his happiness mixing with Dean’s and consuming them both.

“You love me, Cas,” Dean laughs and kisses the apples of Castiel’s cheeks, making them burn. “I just can’t believe it.”

“Dean—”  

Dean cuts Castiel off with another press of his lips. “Feels like I’ve waited forever for you to feel this way—I just—” He pulls back to stare at Castiel but he doesn’t let him go. “Love you so much, Cas. I always have.”

Now it’s Castiel that breaks the distance between them, eager to make up for lost time they haven’t spent kissing each other. Kissing Dean feels like flying and Castiel thinks he’d be happy to do it forever, if Dean’s amenable.

“What,” Dean asks, breathless and smiling and pecking at Castiel’s chin. “You’re thinking real loud over there.”  

“I’m just—I’m so happy.” He kisses Dean on the tip of the nose. “I got my dream job today, I _got_ it, I _earned_ it, Dean. You always believed I could and now it’s happening and if it wasn’t for you—”

“Cas,” Dean tries to interrupt, maybe to interject, probably to downplay his involvement but Castiel doesn’t want to hear any of it.

“If it wasn’t for you,” he repeats firmly, “I wouldn’t be here. And you just told me you love me _back,_ ” his smile turns wicked and he drops his head back in stuttering, giddy laughter. Dean’s grip around his waist tightens and Castiel knows Dean has him and that together, they can do anything.

Castiel can’t wait for the rest of their story and he draws close to Dean again, pressing their foreheads together and catching his breath. “Can you feel it, Dean?” Castiel can’t help kissing Dean again, kissing him and kissing him until they’re both breathless.

“Now we’ve got everything.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story!! Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/casloveshisfreckles).


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